


Let Go

by Nerites



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, more tags tba, no mature content yet but we'll get there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerites/pseuds/Nerites
Summary: In a world where your soulmate is determined by the writing on your skin, idyllic romances are commonplace. But, Hanzo is deterred by the idea, dedicating his life towards further establishing the Shimada name until a man covered in flannel decides to throw his existence on its head with an obnoxious jingling pair of boots and a smile that could save a sinner from eternal damnation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've been dragged down into the hell that is overwatch and now mchanzo please save me  
> i honestly love jesse mccree with all of my heart??? and i am sUCH a sucker for emotionally constipated kids (bless hanzo) being romanced so this pairing hits such a sore spot for me! i lost a lot of motivation writing my previous fic (not ow related) but this game has Got Me and im hoping it'll bring back some of the strength needed to finish the other one but right now Let Go will be my main focus!  
> Just as a heads up, the characters are aged down by like 10 years!  
> The story is very vague on the explanation of how the soulmate dealio works but i'll leave a proper explanation in the notes at the end + Spanish translations! Otherwise I hope everyone enjoys this mess of a fic!
> 
> ALMOST FORGOT!  
> Alcohol is used as a poor coping mechanism in this chapter + there's some vomiting

His first impression of McCree wasn’t great, then again, most meetings at 2am weren’t always spectacular. Draped around the cowboy’s shoulders was an extremely inebriated Genji, hands exploring the nape of his neck and down the expanse of his broad chest, murmuring sweet nothings into his ears in slurred Japanese that the other man clearly understood almost none of. A carefree grin split across his roguish features, supporting the younger male in his arms who’d started kissing his neck in a sensual manner that had a light dusting of rose powdering the southern sounding man’s defined cheekbones. He’d refused Genji’s invitation inside, most likely due to the fact Hanzo was standing in the doorway, watching the entire situation go down, completely unimpressed. He bid the older Shimada a goodnight with a tip of his hat as Genji all but collapsed into Hanzo’s arms while the cowboy _winked_ before turning, the spurs attached to his boots clinking away into the dark blanket of night. It took all of 2 seconds for Hanzo to decide he did not like him.  
  
Genji woke up the next day bright and early so that he could lean over a toilet bowl and reflect on his life decisions. Hanzo simply closed the bathroom door as he strolled past, ready to make himself some tea for the morning. He’d managed to convince their father to let them move out for this exact reason, so that no one had to see how outlandish of a lifestyle Genji lived and he preferred it this way. Dealing with their overbearing father was stressful enough in small doses he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to live with him on top of all the grooming he was going through so that he could inherit the family’s business when his father inevitably stepped down from the top position. Not that he wanted to dwell on his life’s responsibilities when he could hear Genji cleansing himself of last night’s mistakes. He’d left a bottle of water and aspirin on the kitchen counter, the older Shimada settling in front of his laptop to check through his emails as if nothing were amiss.  
  
It took another 40 or so minutes for Genji to emerge and collapse on one of the kitchen counter stools and neck the whole litre of water prepared for him.  
  
“Brother what did I do last night?”  
  
“Nothing special.” Hanzo took a nonchalant sip of his tea, still standing in the kitchen, not bothering to look up from his laptop’s screen.  
  
“Brother _please,_ Jesse sent me a text this morning of a hickey on his neck with a,” he paused, face scrunching up as he imitated the man’s accent, “thankya kindly.” Hanzo snorted. “So if you could elaborate, because he refuses to, that’d be great.”  
  
“You were all over the man who dragged you home if that means anything.”  
  
“Oh God.”  
  
Oh God indeed, Hanzo was the one who witnessed it. He wasn’t interested in meeting his brother’s casual hook-ups but the man was at least gentlemanly enough to escort Genji home and didn’t complain about not getting his just desserts in return. “Try not to bring the people you intend to sleep with home when I am here.”  
  
“No. No, no, no, I would never with Jesse.”  
  
“And here I was thinking you’d lost all semblance of taste.”  
  
Genji, despite himself, laughed, and Hanzo allowed a smirk to peer over the rim of his cup as his other hand tapped away at the keys of his laptop. “Don’t be cruel brother, he’s a nice guy, just too much of a friend for me to cross any boundaries.”  
  
“Could’ve fooled me.”  
  
“ _Hanzo_.”  
  
This time Hanzo looked up, meeting Genji’s gaze, his own lips a stern line again. Honestly, Hanzo cared little for the people Genji spent his time with, so long as they treated him right the older Shimada was content. As it appeared the McCree man had managed to slip beyond a roll in the sheets to someone Genji wanted to keep around if Hanzo was assessing his younger brother’s expression correctly. Moderately impressive considering he did seem like someone Genji would at least consider bedding if last night was any indicator. Relenting, Hanzo subsided with a mumbled ‘whatever’ as Genji pulled out his phone and started typing out something furiously. Hanzo guessed it was an apology and didn’t bother assessing the situation further, he had business to do. Genji had gotten up to vomit again a few minutes later before returning to allow his soul to depart from his body on their kitchen counter. Hanzo offered him a consoling pat on the shoulder before shuffling around to the other side of the counter, laptop in hand as he skimmed through the contents of an email from a Doctor Ziegler. Someone new his father had started to associate with, she was working on the development of some extremely advanced bionic prosthetics and his father was surprisingly interested in the idea and put the drug chain and hit accepting side of the family on hold for it. Or rather, he was investing the profits of said illegal activities into the development of medical science. He hoped for the doctor’s sake she didn’t know about the family’s background activities, when Hanzo had met her she looked like an angel, surely she wouldn’t approve of his father’s methods.  
  
She’d suggested Hanzo come down with his father to assess the most basic of blueprints she’d written up, not that they’d make much sense to the either of them, neither father nor son studied medicine throughout college. Nonetheless, he was instructed to remain polite with her so he agreed, stating he’d send her times that aligned with both of their schedules and ask the doctor to pick the time she preferred most. As Hanzo finished up, he listened to Genji collapse on the bathroom floor mid turning on the shower tap. He pressed a hand to his forehead, it was going to be a long day.  
  
After assisting Genji to call in sick for his current job, teaching karate to children, because how much more Japanese could you get, he shuffled off to his designated office in the main Shimada building. They were a relatively well-respected company, delving into technology development on the surface, even if all of their foundations were rooted in evil. His father had stated life was never black and white when he’d brought up the morality of the situation and Hanzo decided to halt any rebuttals after that. He’d messaged Genji 3 times in between working to see if he was still breathing, getting a thumbs up emoji after the third. He was anxious the kid was somehow idiotic enough to drown in his own vomit and Hanzo did not want to come back home to that. His mind was wandering though, back to the cowboy who was honestly a living stereotype. Hell he had spurs attached to his boots, who in the 21 st century even does that? Biting at his bottom lip, Hanzo’s cursor clicked onto the Facebook tab he’d been adamantly avoiding all day and made his way to Genji’s page. Finding this McCree was easier than he expected, the man was apparently very invested in posting dog videos onto his brother’s wall. Was he really going down this rabbit hole of Facebook stalking a man he’d met for a total of about 5 minutes on his doorstep? Apparently yes, yes he was.  
  
Flipping through his profile pictures, Hanzo came to 3 conclusions. He never stopped with the cowboy getup, he had a bleached hair phase, and he _definitely_ worked out. Finding a picture of him on the beach with who Hanzo assumed were his friends, he was in a ridiculous lifeguard outfit while still donning a wide brimmed hat. It was obvious that he took care of himself and Hanzo panic closed the tab the moment his eyes were assaulted with an unhealthy amount of tanned skin. He took a deep breath, eyes blown wide as he gave himself some time to recover. Well that adventure was a mistake. He forced himself to refocus on the files he’d been shifting through, reading the words slowly, attempting to enter the rhythm he’d managed to set before ruining his pace entirely. He cheered himself through it, one word at a time. Thank. You. For. Your. Interest. Mr. Shimada. Please. Assess. The. Dates. Enclose- abs abs abs abs. Hanzo dropped his head on his desk with a growl. He was too old to be acting like a hormonal teenager right now. It took him a good portion of his working day to regain the strength to actually concentrate on his work and he’d have to pick up the slack when he went home; his dislike for McCree only intensified in consequence.  


* * *

  
  
Returning home was an ordeal in itself, traffic beyond a mess with three crashes along the route taken to head back. Sure, he had a personal chauffer, but Hanzo’s patience was wearing thin at this point, desperate for the end of a terrible day. So when the door opened to a very distressed looking Genji sprawled out on the hallway floor, Hanzo was just about ready to shut himself into an oven and throw in the towel. He knew he had to confront his disaster of a brother, see if his pulse was still pumping but he delayed it, taking his time with removing his shoes, storing them away with an unnecessary amount of precision. He watched Genji twitch, probably returning to the world of the living hearing Hanzo scuffling around. He wasn’t necessarily causing a ruckus but he could have been quieter, sure. A whine escaped the man who rolled over on the hardwood, eyes cracking open to examine his brother.  
  
“Haaaaanzooooo.”  
  
“It’s 8pm how are you still hung over?”  
  
“I drink like a champ.”  
  
“Don’t come home next time.” If Hanzo wasn’t mistaken, he saw what appeared to be a grin forming on the younger Shimada’s face, far too amused for someone who was flat on his back and possibly suffering from an extreme migraine. He let the other boy suffer in silence for a bit as he moved around, hanging his coat, placing his bag in its designated position and fishing out his laptop before finally stopping in front of the younger man, peering down with affectionate contempt. “Did you need anything?”  
  
“A better prefrontal cortex that helps me make wiser decisions maybe.”  
  
“Wait till you’re 25, it might be done developing by then if you haven’t already killed its growth with your alcohol obsession.”  
  
“Guess I’m doomed then brother.” Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Some water would be nice though.”  
  
“On it.”  
  
Shuffling between kitchen to the front of the house again, he sat down beside Genji, observing the man who looked pathetically pale. Hanzo never really understood why he bothered doing this to himself, the temporary high never lasted as long as the repercussions. Sure, Hanzo indulged occasionally but he never went as far as Genji did; though it had been some time since he’d been this bad. Helping the other sit up, his brother clutched his head as he went before drinking like he was dying of thirst. Probably was. Genji slumped against him, mumbling a thank you before closing his eyes and Hanzo let him be, a sigh escaped him as he ran a hand through his younger brother’s hair. He had a soft spot for Genji, no matter how sick he got of him he adored the boy, someone had to considering the rest of the family didn’t want to know he existed. They sat like that in comfortable silence as the younger brother occasionally poured more water into himself before Hanzo’s curiosity got the better of him. Honestly he’d been trying to swallow the thought the moment he entered the door but after what he’d seen today he’d just about given up on his restraint.  
  
“Did you sort things out with your friend? The cowboy, McCree, was it?”  
  
“Huh?” Genji tilted his head back, peering up through unfocused eyes as he continued to use Hanzo’s shoulder as a pillow. “Oh Jesse. Yeah it’s fine he knows I didn’t mean anything about it.”  
  
“Didn’t you?”  
  
He felt Genji’s whole body tense. There it was. His gaze dropped and his face pressed into Hanzo, muffling anything he was trying to say. His voice softened to a level Hanzo wasn’t entirely familiar with, Genji not normally allowing himself to be vulnerable but Hanzo wasn’t surprised. Genji had been drinking for a reason if he’d been this sick afterwards, especially on a work night.  
  
“Our words don’t align.”  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
Genji bit his lip, chewing on it before continuing, “‘In tranquillity go’ isn’t necessarily a sentence. Neither is ‘go in tranquillity.’ Well it is but it makes no sense and we’re both not spiritual enough to say stuff like that.”  
  
Hanzo rubbed his back, the best expression of comfort he could manage. “You will find who is right for you with time, can’t say I’m disappointed that your soulmate isn’t Clint Eastwood anyway.” That managed to rip a laugh out of the younger man and Hanzo allowed a smile to slip through his usually scolded features. “But the cowboy’s soulmate mark is ‘go’? How ridiculous.”  
  
Genji huffed in amusement. “Yours is no better brother.”  
  
His smile warped into a smirk. “Don’t remind me.”  


* * *

  
  
The following week had him listening to Genji explain to him why McCree was so easy to fall for. Honestly, he’d have to disagree, his only redeeming quality being his body, which Hanzo was trying desperately to forget. He’d been told that McCree was wholesome and sweet and was always willing to help, that his mere presence enveloped the room in warmth and that he had a special way of making everyone he talked to feel appreciated and loved. Hanzo could see why Genji was so captivated considering everyone else in his life had been the exact opposite of McCree. The man was a breath of fresh air and Hanzo felt bad for his brother but he knew he’d meet more people that he could earnestly love, and would love him in return. he had faith in Genji and just because he and McCree weren’t destined for each other didn’t mean his younger brother would never find his soulmate with the younger man’s interest in the subject sparking more so recently; not to mention he and the cowboy could always remain good friends anyway. Hanzo on the other hand had little to nothing to care for when it came to who he was destined to. His soulmate mark was vague and irrelevant, and his dedication of a lifetime together with someone would be sold to the highest bidder under his father’s instruction. He was to further the Shimada name, not find the person fate told him he should be with, even if he got curious sometimes.  
  
He'd been in the midst of an important conversation with Doctor Ziegler before Genji burst into his office room at their home, spinning him around in his swivel chair with what appeared to be panic in his eyes. Hanzo yelped, only realising he’d done so when the voice on the other end of the line asked him if he was alright through the phone.  
  
“I am fine, sorry for the disruption.” Genji was gripping the handles of his chair, staring intensely at Hanzo like nothing was fine. “But I must apologise and cut the pleasantries short. You were alright for my father and I to visit on Wednesday at 11am correct?” After being given the approval of the doctor he said his goodbyes and wished her a goodnight before hanging up and looking sternly at his brother. “Father likes this one, you better have a good reason as to why I had to be rude to her.”  
  
“Totally good.” He grinned. That meant Genji did not, in fact, have a good reason for disrupting him. Damn crocodile tears. “I’m being forced to visit the bar Jesse works at and I need your moral support.” Hanzo tried to spin around in his chair and turn his back to Genji, the younger man just held onto the handles tighter and laughed. “C’mon it’s important, _to me._ ” True, but Hanzo was still annoyed. “All you have to do is put on your classic resting bitch face and he’ll avoid us the entire night. It’ll be easy.”  
  
“I have work to do.”  
  
“And I have an impending breakdown on the horizon so could you do this for me, just this once?”  
  
Hanzo grit his teeth, breathing out sharply. He didn’t want to but Genji was good at milking his soft side, especially right now. “Fine, but you’d better get over him quickly because I’m not doing this again.”  
  
“Of course, thank you brother.” His smile had so much energy he could have powered their house’s electricity for the week and Hanzo was starting to realise he was letting the younger man get away with far too much these days.  
  
So when he’d become the designated driver to avoid tipping off the Shimada clan and watched Genji take 4 shots in a row and then neck 2 whisky on the rocks, which was _basically_ taking more shots before dropping his head on the bar counter they’d seated themselves at, Hanzo’s being swelled with an immense amount of regret. On entry he’d been told by his brother that McCree’s shift started at 9pm, an hour away from when they’d arrived, and only now Hanzo realised Genji had dragged him out early so that he could pump his system with alcohol before the inevitable face to face meet up he'd have to have with his dreamboat of a western cliché. There were other things he’d noticed before Genji’s spiral into intoxication, that being the bar’s name, _The Flashbang_. He’d asked Genji if that meant like a stun grenade and the younger Shimada had only grinned at him which was an answer in itself. _Tacky_. The interior was mainly wooden, smelling of fresh pine and heavy whisky, an odd juxtaposition that wrung together in a sweet harmony. The atmosphere was warm and cosy with a main bar station, liquor lining the cabinets behind where the bartender situated themselves. The counter was wooden, the stools were wooden, even the _booths_ were wooden and the flooring, wait for it, _wooden_. At least the seating was cushioned in all areas but really, all of it seemed so rustic and old fashioned, like the particular cowboy. He’d fit right in with the dark but still warm palette that managed to envelope the space with comfort, as if sitting in front of a fire place on a plush rug with a warm beverage surrounded by your family. It was, to Hanzo’s surprise, pleasant. _The name was still a turn off_.  
  
Behind the counter was an older man, tanned and littered with scars. He maintained a dark, but not necessarily unwelcoming disposition. His grin looked closer to a snarl and he propped his hip against the counter while he served drinks with a practiced ease that he could only have earned from years of experience. His voice was a low rumble, relatively husky, as if it’d been grated away at after a long term of use and his eyes focused in with such an intensity it was hard for Hanzo to tell if he was completely captivated by the gaze or felt reduced to cornered prey; but his brother had greeted him merrily so the man was either a good guy or the _worst_ kind of guy. The older man had watched Genji knock back his drinks with vigour and after witnessing the boy rest his head on the counter top with mirth in his gaze, he moved his attention to Hanzo, eyeing him down before nodding his head at the younger Shimada and opened his mouth,  
  
“¿Tu hermano?”  
  
Hanzo paused, was that Spanish? He frowned, clearly showing the man he did not understand. He merely grinned in response, finding entertainment in the situation, which was beyond frustrating. Not like English was his first language either but he still used it when he knew someone wouldn’t understand his mother tongue.  
  
“Genji hasn’t taught you a thing has he?”  
  
“About Spanish? No.” Why would he?  
  
“I asked you if he was your brother.”  
  
“Oh, well. Yes.”  
  
He felt uncomfortably out of place. Genji was too gone mentally to accompany him in any phrase of the word, staring at an empty glass while recovering from the undeniable sway of his vision that was assaulting him in that moment. The older man placed a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, the kid stirring, mumbling something in Spanish which shocked Hanzo because since when did his brother speak Spanish?  
  
“Oi, don’t be rude niño.”  
  
“What did he say?” It slipped out of him before he could stop it and Hanzo bit his lip in regret.  
  
The older man’s amusement appeared to rise. “He told me to back off.” He leaned down, getting closer to Genji’s level, which was a long way down because the man was relatively tall. “Kid, it’s 8:30, how are you already this gone? I’m not giving you anything else and neither is Jesse when he gets here.”  
  
“Not fair Gabe.” It was a whine, Genji’s ultimate sulk manoeuvre; Hanzo hated it and how endearing it could be but the older gentleman didn’t budge.  
  
The man, Gabe? Stood to his full height again, hands on his hips and went straight back to looking Hanzo over. He felt the older man focus more on his body than his face and that was relatively mortifying, he wasn’t necessarily into men a solid 20 years older than him, if Hanzo was guessing his age correctly.  
  
“Stop squirming _guapo_ , I’m not going to kill you, just looking for the family resemblance.” _What the hell was a guapo?_ He held out a hand accompanied by a mocking kind of smile plastered on his face and Hanzo finally came to a conclusion, everything about the man screamed cocky. “Name’s Gabriel Reyes,” Ga- _Mr. Reyes_ rolled his Rs with a sultry purr that had Hanzo’s head spinning, the guy must’ve been a lady killer in his youth, maybe he still was? He had the body for it too, built like a super hero straight out of a DC or Marvel comic, “your brother’s babysitter when Jesse isn’t on his ass.” Hanzo almost choked, _almost_. Wouldn’t Genji have loved that if it were literal. Hanzo closed that mental door as soon as he opened it. “We know all about you Mr. Shimada, Genji likes talking when he’s drunk. Has high praise for you.” His expression finally softened to something Hanzo could finally tolerate looking at without wanting to return with a glare. “We’re glad he has someone at home to rely on.”  
  
Great did they know his entire family history?  
  
“Hm.” Hanzo took his hand, shook it and then promptly dropped it. “Yes, I like to make sure my brother is alive at least.”  
  
A girl in a ridiculous amount of purple and heavy eye makeup cracked out a laugh from behind before slapping a hand over her mouth, trying to minimise the attraction to her person.  “ _Que lindo_ , ‘least someone in that Shimada family wants him alive.”  
  
They _did_ know their entire family history, didn’t they?  
  
Mr. Reyes arched a brow, looking a little unimpressed, hip resting against the counter again as he fixed the younger woman a glare. “Come now mija, don’t show your disdain so openly.”  
  
“Genji’s a sweetie though, how could anyone hate him.” The younger Shimada gagged in Hanzo’s direction.  
  
“I have a few reasons.” He slowly pushed Genji back onto the counter, a soft ‘thank you brother’ muttered in Japanese.  
  
The woman laughed openly this time. “Pobrecito.” Her voice a came out as a coo.  
  
Mr. Reyes snorted, “The older or younger Shimada?”  
  
“Both?” The older man threw his head back, vocalising his amusement.  
  
Did everyone speak Spanish fluently here or was it just him? Apparently, his distaste was showing because when the bartender noticed Hanzo’s expression he promptly apologised. “Sorry, sorry. Been awhile since we had someone new. My family runs the place and we all have roots that had us speaking Spanish-“  
  
“Except Papa Jack.”  
  
“Right, except Jack,” there was a delay as Mr. Reyes rebuilt his sentence after being interrupted by the younger woman, “my husband. Sombra here and Jesse are our kids, both of them fluent in it so we drag everyone else into the mix, your brother’s been conditioned too, my bad.” Hanzo looked at him blankly, he was showing no remorse with that smile on his face  
  
Hanzo took a deep breath, indulging in conversation, or more so dipping the tip of his foot in, still looking displeased if Mr. Reyes’ expression meant anything. “Jack is…?”  
  
“White as bread.” Directed from Sombra… he believed, who dumped herself onto the stool beside Hanzo, propping an elbow on the counter top, eyes fixed on him, studying. “Spicy as flour.”  
  
“Oi mija, don’t be rude, he’s your father.”  
  
“Hey, just repeating your words Pa.”  
  
Mr. Reyes shut his mouth while Sombra smirked up at him. All Hanzo managed to mumble was a soft “Mija?”  
  
The older gentleman tilted his head at the girl, arms crossing over a broad chest that seemed impossibly bulky, “Means daughter. Genji’ll have to teach you a few things if this keeps up.” No he wouldn’t, Hanzo didn’t feel like coming back. He was only here to present his neutrally angry expression to keep people away, but instead he’d been lied to. _Dammit Genji_. Yet, instead of voicing his thoughts, he simply grunted in affirmation. He watched the father and daughter combo start chatting between themselves as Hanzo withdrew from conversation, occasionally checking his phone for the time and monitoring Genji’s vital signs. He was disgruntled by the entire experience, thrown into an unfamiliar environment with unfamiliar people speaking an unfamiliar language and Genji had gotten too drunk to maintain a proper conversation in half an hour. Hanzo cursed him but there was sympathy mixed into the emotional cocktail because clearly, his little brother was blocking out some serious emotions of his own. Mr. Reyes started shuffling between conversing with Sombra and doing his job, pouring drinks, dexterous hands showing off some tricks, tossing bottles for tips and generally having a good time with it. He wasn’t sure if Sombra worked at the bar as well, the girl seeming content on her phone, tapping away at the speed of light. She’d shaved half her head and the majority of what was left was dyed. She looked like the epitome of cyber punk, not Hanzo’s thing, but he didn’t understand kids these days. _Christ,_ he was only 26 and he was already acting like a 40 year old.  
  
He phased out after that, no longer focusing on what was happening. He was waiting for Genji to sober up, at least slightly, so he could have about half a conversation and then call it a night because there really was no reason for him to be there but that hopeful thought process was silenced by a jingle of spurs accompanied by heavy footsteps, a jovial laugh breaking through Hanzo’s inner reflection and ripping him back to the present. He peered up, met with that same lazy grin he’d seen nights ago, so carefree as its owner presented themselves so wildly. He was still dressed up in a getup of sorts if the brown boots and wide brim hat meant anything. His thumbs hooked in his belt, a ludicrous belt buckle adorning the centre of his waistband as he inclined his head in a dip to customers, greeting him with enthusiasm. His mirth spilled from parted lips, indulging patrons with his exuberant disposition as a pleasant ‘howdy’ rumbled through the air, saccharine and viscous as the word dripped from his tongue like honey. He radiated comfort, that being with himself and with those around him. He was the kind of man you’d assume would give great hugs, but then again Hanzo didn’t like hugs and he definitely did _not_ like Jesse McCree.  
  
And then the cowboy looked over, eyes locking with the older Shimada’s and his smile increased tenfold, brightening the room with ease. The man tipped his hat in a means to say hello and Hanzo felt himself stunned into stagnancy; it was all he needed for him to know that this man was going to plague Hanzo’s life with his existence, he just wasn’t aware of to what extent that would be, yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translations (My knowledge is garbage i'm already sorry for any mistakes!)
> 
> \- Guapo | Handsome (??? hopefully lol)  
> \- Que lindo | How sweet  
> \- Pobrecito | Poor baby
> 
> Better explanation of soulmate conditions
> 
> \- The words written onto the soulmates, be that any number of partners involved, are parts of a phrase that holds a deep meaning to the relationship.  
> \- The language the words are written in (bc language barriers are strong) is the language the words are first spoken in between the partners.
> 
>  
> 
> Also sorry for lack of McCree in this chapter, i'll fix that in the second one for sure :>


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prefacing this with i have nO idea how bionic prosthetics work google is my best friend  
> more alcohol mentioned in this chapter!  
> also apologising in advance for bad Spanish it's like the one language i didn't come across in high school haha  
> translations are still at the bottom though! 
> 
> otherwise hope you all enjoy!

There was one thing and one thing only Hanzo Shimada could focus on while the cowboy made his way over with the very definition of the sun in his smile. _Don’t think of him shirtless, don’t think of him shirtless._

He wasn’t doing a very good job considering he’d become as incapacitated as Genji just without the ludicrous amount of alcohol. “Howdy.” He tilted his head back, showing off more of his eyes that were partially obscured by his hat, “Remember that face, Genji’s older brother right?” It appeared Hanzo was taking a while to respond as the elation written all over the other man’s face subdued, switching to something a little more perplexed.

“That is correct.” He finally managed to mumble out while taking a deep breath, levelling himself again. The temporary distraction was gone, he could go back to disliking the grown man. He looked the man over a little closer, a white v neck covered by a button up flannel upon his person and as his gaze swept back up in his best attempt of subtly, he noticed a fading red mark just by the dip of his collarbone.

The godforsaken hickey! It had been 8 (eight) days and it was still there! What had Genji done, tore the skin? Hanzo was mortified for him.

“It’s a pleasure meetin’ y’properly this time.” The other man had either not noticed his wandering gaze or chose to ignore it which Hanzo was appreciative of with his eyes struggling to not look at the spot of red staining his skin. “Genji’s real fond of talkin’ about you.” Absolutely everyone in this bar probably knew everything about him with the way conversations in this place were proceeding. “Speakin’ of the devil, how’s the kid…” his eyes swung down to Genji’s form, still resting against the table, “doin’? He been drinkin’ more recently, from what we’ve noticed.”

 _Your fault_ , Hanzo thought bitterly.

That seemed to spur the younger Shimada out of his haze, peering up at the cowboy, dopey grin accompanying the action. He looked extremely pleased to see McCree and if he was affected by the words spoken by the other man he wasn’t showing it. “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here Jesse.”

McCree made a show of clutching his shirt over his chest. “Geeze darlin’ didn’t know y’were awake. Try ‘n’ warn me next time.”

“It’s more fun surprising you.” It was a little difficult to see but behind the lopsided grin Genji was showing the other man Hanzo could pinpoint the affection behind his gaze and teasing words. He wanted to scold the younger boy because this was not getting over Jesse McCree but that’d make things far too obvious. “You smile so much but all your expressions are stunning, makes me want to see them more often”

Oh no. He was flirting. He was definitely flirting. Genji was prone to digging his own grave sure but this time he was tunnelling to the Earth’s core.

“Well thanks pardner, yer a pretty picture too,” McCree paused, as if considering his next sentence before his casual upturned arch of lips returned with alarming ease, “so’s your brother. Shimada’s got good genes.”

“C’mon Jesse you’ve known Hanzo for a total of about 7 minutes, do not start favouring him over me.”

McCree took his hat from his head, pressing it to his chest with a look of sincerity, “Now that I’d never do. I have t’like y’both evenly.”

Genji leaned in towards Hanzo and whispered not too quietly. “He’s lying he likes me more.”

McCree all but burst out in a fit of laughter as Hanzo shot his brother the most unimpressed face he could muster. Drunk Genji was a disaster and a half and Hanzo could control only a quarter of it. “Yes Genji, I am aware.” The younger Shimada looked far too proud hearing that. Claiming a victory over his brother was something he held onto even if he was intoxicated it seemed. “Go back to resting on the counter. Or maybe we should head back home, you do not seem so,” Hanzo paused, hand waving in the air as he rummaged through his head for the correct phrasing, “yourself right now.”

“I am of perfect mind brother.” Genji knocked over a glass as he threw his arms out in an attempt to convince his sibling he was fine. He was not fine, neither was Hanzo. He swore in his mother tongue, which made Hanzo smirk while McCree moved around his work station, clearing the spilt ice. If Hanzo wasn’t mistaken he’d felt McCree’s gaze focus on him, if only for a moment, lingering in a way he hadn’t let it before. It must have been the shift in his features so he adjusted his lips back into the thin line he’d been enforcing previously.

The trend had continued, Genji throwing around a few flirtatious lines with McCree skilfully deflecting the subject and Hanzo looking sorely disappointed in his brother’s efforts to get over the other man. Sombra had jumped back into the conversation at some point, engaging in an intense subject with the cowboy in Spanish which had Hanzo looking at Genji every few seconds for translation. He didn’t get much out of it asides from the younger Shimada squinting and occasionally stating a few translations like “I think he said phosphate?” How did Genji know the word for phosphate in Spanish was Hanzo’s main question. Sombra, in a sense, seemed extremely suave in the way she presented herself, almost nonchalant but on further inspection it was evident that she was most definitely paying attention to her surroundings. She seemed intelligent, unsettlingly so and the kind of woman who’d use your deepest secrets for profit. She talked in a way that was similar to Mr. Reyes, the cadence aligning in their speech patterns and you could tell there was some sort of relation there, blood or not, but McCree was an outlier in the equation which was peculiar but also something Hanzo wasn’t entirely invested in finding out. He was reigned back in by Sombra half leaping over the counter, eyes wide as she laughed loudly at a mildly embarrassed McCree. She slapped the bar counter with one hand, the other propping her up as her Spanish picked up an indecipherable pace, or at lease for Genji who decided to look away before translating made him nauseous. Mr. Reyes seemed to scold her and she frowned, sinking back onto her seat but she let herself grin easily when she looked at McCree again. Mr. Reyes was also incredibly amused from what Hanzo could make out and whatever he said had the cowboy blushing, a soft “Papi.” as the older man clapped a hand on his back.

Sombra’s suddenly seemed very interested in the sobering up Genji, the woman wrapping an arm around the younger Shimada’s, insisting he follow her, “C’mon amigo I got a sweet new setup that I need to show you.”

“Your study?”

“I think you mean my haven.”

“You’ll just show me a picture of it, can’t you do it here?”

“Ni loco, as if I’d let anyone see The Den, what if my competition is around?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

She gave up on just using words after that, heaving Genji off his seat and dragging the young man away, “I’m always dramatic about this stuff, you know that.”

Genji tried to pull himself away, looking back at McCree, almost longingly, “I can’t leave Hanzo there on his own.”

“He’s in very _capable_ hands, Jesse’s there.” She practically purred before breaking out a laugh seeing Genji’s expression flip to shock, perhaps she knew about his conflicting emotions but he mumbled something in Spanish which had Sombra hollering, an insistent nod of her head following and the younger Shimada looked like he was evaluating the meaning of the universe for that second. His company used his temporary distraction to finish dragging him around to a back door leading to God knows where. Hanzo managed to stop himself from appearing extremely distressed throughout the entire ordeal, very interested in following Genji but he hadn’t been invited so his manners kept him seated. When he turned back around to face the bar he met the grinning cowboy face to face and almost fell out of his seat.

“Sorry Mr. Shimada, didn’t mean t’scare you.”

“Dully noted.” He remained impassive, “What were you all saying… the entire time?”

“Well I’ll be, you really don’t know a thing d’you?”

Hanzo pursed his lips. So what he didn’t know Spanish, he knew 3 other languages and that was plenty.

McCree seemed to take the message before continuing, “Er well that’s, they were discussin’ how clingy Genji’s been recently.” He rubbed the back of his neck, appearing sheepish, “Y’got any idea how he feels? He’s been tellin’ me he aint got anything to feel knowin’ we aint fated and all but y’know, people can’t help ‘emselves and I aint ever to judge.”

“Genji is simply a flirtatious and personal space invading drunk.” His younger brother would have his head if he told McCree the truth. The man looked considerably surprised, of course he expected the answer to be affirmative; Genji was the opposite of subtle. “You’re just his well,” Hanzo looked McCree over, eyes blank as he scanned the man, trying to appear as neutral as possible which wasn’t too hard considering he was dressed for a costume party, “type. Physically. I suppose.” McCree all but blossomed with heat, pink covering his features, which contrasted with his impossibly large frame and masculine build and Hanzo had to swallow the thought of finding the man endearing. “But he appreciates you as a person Mr. McCree and has chosen to remain friends with you. So I can only ask you to respect that and not allow assumptions to get in the way of how you treat him. He likes it here from what I can see and he likes you and your family.” The older Shimada took a deep breath, looking away from the other male, thinking about how comfortable his brother seemed in their company, “Thank you for taking care of Genji. He is a lot to deal with but if he has something he needs to tell you, he will. Otherwise leave him be. He is a good kid with only pure intentions,” most of the time, “and if you truly are not one to judge you will not judge his feelings without hearing what he feels directly from him.”

The cowboy was silenced, eyes growing in size, if only slightly, but his surprise subdued into pure unbridled affection and Hanzo felt his chest seize from the expression. That could not be directed at him but he was the only person McCree was talking to. The sudden pressure made it distinctly hard to breathe and he had no idea how to confront the situation.

“You really care about him.” Oh it must have been aimed at Genji. Hanzo could inhale without hesitating again. “It’s good t’see. Kid always told us y’were the one relative he could always rely on, ‘spose seeing you in the flesh and getting’ to know you a little is extra reassuring.”

Hanzo had to return the smile the other man was sporting, “It is equally as good to see him spending time with people who genuinely care for him.”

“’Course. Hard not to care for the fella.”

* * *

 

The next week had arrived for when he’d scheduled his meeting with Dr. Ziegler and he found himself beside his father with the woman spouting a large dose of jargon he struggled to comprehend. He understood that the neuroplasticity of the brain would affect the duration of time it would take for the artificial limbs to properly wire with the body’s desired movements, the younger the patient being the faster the adaption. Her main focus was to eliminate the delayed movements of trans- transhumeral prosthetics? She’d admitted to the fact the complete abolishment of the jagged joint movements was currently beyond her ability but she was definitely reducing the times of response significantly. She’d uttered more, mainly about neural activity and how patients would only have to think to get their arms moving but honestly Hanzo had focused in more on the visual example she’d procured, the image of an arm prosthetic looking magnificent, aesthetically at least. It was sleek and imitated the image of the limb well, aside from the typical nuances that came with human anatomy, the entire thing being more cylindrical rather than uneven surfaces mapping out a muscular make up. It also was not flesh coloured, a distinct dark navy, almost black, with rich royal blue accents. Hanzo always had liked blue though, so there might have been a bias when he examined it.

His father seemed enraptured by the entire thing but Hanzo was starting to think he just enjoyed the view that was Dr. Ziegler. Sweet blonde locks piled around her face, framing it in a way that declared innocence, her eyes wide and blue and pale skin tinted with mild amounts of peach high on her cheeks. He assumed it was makeup but Hanzo had a feeling she was naturally beautiful as well. It didn’t help that she was typically dressed in mostly white, gold jewellery colouring her slightly and some black mixed in to break up the overwhelming glow of her entire presence. She emanated purity, if she were rich Hanzo was certain he’d be married off to her but luckily she wasn’t, saved them both from an odd situation.

After the formal discussion had ended, she pulled Hanzo gently aside with that feather like touch of hers, every action exuding some sense of sensitivity, calculated to make those around her comfortable. "Mr. Shimada, if I may have a moment of your time?”

Well he had no choice but to oblige, his father was looking in their direction and he’d be lectured if he didn’t listen to one of her requests. “Of course.”

She seemed tactful as she weaved her way around multiple lab desks with laptops and notepads littering the area, scientists obviously documenting everything they found on anything they could. Hanzo thought he saw a whiteboard marker with blank ink scribbled onto one of the white tabletops; that was sheer desperation. But it was clear she was trying to get out of earshot from the oldest Shimada, her hand gently clasping his wrist as she lead him before making sure they were securely isolated. Hanzo was half convinced this was where she would pull out a pistol and confirm her hit on him because for all that virtuousness she basically bathed in, he’d seen good people morph into the embodiment of evil in a split second when something they needed to accomplish was on the line.

He was safe though, Dr. Ziegler’s motives simple as she really did just want to talk. “You are Genji’s older brother, are you not?” How the hell did Genji know this woman? “Ah, I see you’re surprised,” she giggled openly into her palm, eyes glittering, and Hanzo suddenly knew exactly why Genji would bother associating with someone like her, “I am friends with the family who owns ‘The Flashbang’.” Hanzo had to hold back a sigh of exasperation, how was the world this small?

The simple bar had somehow become an intricate part of his present life recently. First Genji coming home in McCree’s arms, then Genji confessing about how he felt, and then going to the actual establishment and being bombarded by Spanish. But the visit hadn’t been terrible. After his brief conversation about his brother with McCree he’d found himself comfortably seated at the bar counter, watching the cowboy imitate similar movements Mr. Reyes had previously made. He also had experience in the area, making the entire act appear effortless. Someway through his shift, the older bartender had scolded McCree for his ‘getup’ and was forced to change into something more presentable as more customers came in while the night aged. He’d returned in a waistcoat and Hanzo’s mouth went dry but that was entirely irrelevant to his experience, he’d merely enjoyed the simple conversation with the bartender who slipped between serving customers and idle chatter with Hanzo when the hustle and bustle lulled. It was, dare he admit to it, pleasant. Though there was one thing burned into his mind from the night, written distinctly on the palm of the man’s hand was the word ‘Go’ and it did not fade with time. So he did have an odd soulmate mark, Hanzo almost felt sorry for him seeing as he seemed like the type of person who cared about finding the one he was destined for, but then again his numbness towards the entire soulmate situation eroded away at his sympathies when it came to finding your true love, or whatever it was.

The main point was, he was determined to leave the whole bar in the past but here he was, talking to someone else who knew about the place, and his brother, and probably spoke Spanish fluently knowing his luck. “I see. Well to confirm, yes I am Genji’s older brother.”

She nodded, seemingly deep in her own thoughts before pressing two fingers to her lips, nails perfectly manicured. “This is a predicament.” Hanzo struggled to understand, simply watching her with an eyebrow raised, so she continued. “If I had known Genji’s father was the one offering to fund the research I would have denied the request.” Her brows knitted together, showing some moral conflict on her part. “I knew the surnames were the same but Genji had never mentioned being from _The_ Shimada family so I assumed it was a coincidence the names matched up.” She hummed, taking her time to phrase her next sentence, “That is until I was told the famous older brother had made an appearance and after they’d described how you looked and seeing you today the similarities are uncanny. So I came to the natural conclusion…“ Her sentence tapered off, which only seemed to highlight her conflict. She’d begun chewing on her lower lip, fingers now clutched into a loose fist in front of her mouth, obscuring part of her disturbed expression. “I feel cruel, accepting assistance from someone who has made a friend of mine suffer.” She reinitiated eye contact with Hanzo, focusing on him again, “Does he know which projects your family decides to invest in?”

Hanzo lowered his head, feeling a bite of guilt, “No the family, aside from myself, has completely isolated him and I do not speak of the business unless asked.” Genji, for obvious reasons, did not ask.

Dr. Ziegler seemed all the more troubled hearing the news. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, her stance adjusting with it, “I feel like I am asking a lot of you, sorry for such a burden of a conversation so early into us knowing each other but, if you are fine with answering, should I disclose this information to him Mr. Shimada?”

He sucked in his breath, taking a moment to really consider the situation. Through an ordinary lens yes she should definitely tell him. But this was something she had a passion for and relinquishing that was asking for a lot. But this was Genji, and if he knew his brother, he’d know the younger Shimada would not be so shallow to demand the doctor give up on her current project. “Talk to him, he will listen and won’t force you to act in any way in particular. This is a difficult situation but I must admit my brother will not have you resign on your dreams so it comes to what your morality tells you to do, Doctor.”

She looked even more confused after hearing that. Hanzo was never good with words when it came to emotions. “I see.” Her pause was thick with intensity before she looked to Hanzo for some more guidance, “What would you choose, if you do not mind me asking?”

“I am a man of business Dr. Ziegler. I would choose the project.” His throat stung as he said it but it was true. He’d stayed with the Shimada family after all, how would doing this be any different to the betrayal he was already showing his brother.

“Ah,” her gaze wandered, leaving Hanzo’s form, a strained smile pulling at her lips, “I suppose we are similar in that regard then, though I hate to admit I was looking for validation.”

Hanzo made a noise of amusement, but there was little mirth behind it, “It is how the world progresses Doctor. All I can ask of you is to be honest with my brother.”

“Of course, but I suppose you are right.” Hanzo watched the image of innocent in her shatter.

* * *

 

Hanzo had been forced to debrief his father on what Dr. Ziegler had talked about before being allowed to return to work. He’d made an excuse, something about a personal interest in the Shimada family history and admittedly, was too embarrassed to ask the head of the family about it. His father seemed indifferent after hearing that which was more than enough for him to make a quick escape, landing in his office and settling behind the desktop on his too large desk facing a panoramic view of the city skyline. He’d admired the view the first time he’d been given the office but now it was a bleak reminder of the documents he had to push through before heading home. He shuffled through emails, made a few calls, scheduled a few meetings and assessed some reports coming in from employees. He’d adamantly rejected involving himself in the dirty work but sometimes they didn’t listen to him. Currently he was being informed about how the profits made from the recent cocaine bust were minimal which meant funding on external projects were tight. Maybe fate would decide for the angelic doctor and his father would be forced to close off further funding entirely. Or he’d have a few of their more experienced gunmen take a few targets down; the latter seemed more likely. He pursed his lips together, finishing with another folder of emails before letting his brain take a mild break. Facebook again, despite never really using the thing. Upon opening the tab he found 2 friend requests and was moderately surprised. A Sombra Reyes-Morrison and Jesse McCree asking to be added on the social media site. Hanzo hesitated, knowing he’d probably regret accepting the requests but he couldn’t be rude to Genji’s friends, right? So he ticked yes to both and after convincing himself he was not that interested, gave in to the demands of his curiosity and meandered over to McCree’s page again. He had full access to his albums now, his Facebook stalking was taking a turn into the danger zone.

He remained on McCree’s page for a whole of 10 minutes, flicking through the small snippets of his life he’d brandished on his page. So far he’d learnt he had a big soft spot for animals, farm life to be exact, as there were several images of him on, surprise surprise, a farm. Most of them were of him riding on horses or hugging an Australian Kelpie, the dog appearing as happy as the man himself. There was an image of him, Sombra and Mr. Reyes with another addition. Hanzo’s best guess being he was Mr. Reyes’ husband but he had a similar smile to McCree’s. Like a ray of sunshine, he shone his teeth without restraint, the happiness crinkling the corners of his eyes as he really seemed at peace on the open paddock of the property. Sombra and Mr. Reyes seemed out of place in comparison to the rest of their family and suddenly a lot of McCree’s character made sense. Must have been, what was it, Papa Jack? Who had influenced him to be the odd cowboy. No wonder why he didn’t fit into the city lifestyle he was currently partaking in. He had also seen a few pictures of Dr. Ziegler with McCree and a few other people. She seemed to be rather intimate with a tall woman who possessed a darker complexion. Hanzo was moderately surprised, he assumed she was as vanilla as she looked.

But aside from that McCree seemed to be a simple man who enjoyed simple things. He definitely was almost always smiling, even in unflattering images where someone had snapped a quick picture without his knowledge his upturned arch was still evident and Hanzo had to squash a growing feeling of endearment. He decided he’d been creepy enough for the day and closed the tab, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. There was an overwhelming urge to also delve into Sombra’s Facebook just out of sheer obligation considering he’d added her at the same time but something told him if he tried she’d know. Something told him she already knew he’d been through McCree’s profile and that was unnerving in itself. So he put his break to a rest and continued through the work day, trying to avoid letting himself be distracted again, lest he return to the cowboy’s page to look at another 10 pictures of a dog on a farm. Though he couldn’t bring himself to necessarily feel like that was a bad thing as he felt a small smile tug at the corners of his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translations 
> 
> \- Amigo - friend LO L  
> \- Ni loco - No way


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall ready for some more of this mess of a fic this early bc i have no clue how i churned this one out as quick as i did  
> obligatory warning for genji being a memeing mess of a little brother  
> alcohol is mentioned, it probably will be for the majority of the fic, esp at the beginning because of the whole bar part of this au!  
> Also the smallest of drugs mentioned in passing, like one whole sentence.
> 
> Also sorry for the length of this chapter, there's a Lot of Hanzo just meeting people  
> otherwise hope everyone enjoys!

To Hanzo’s chagrin McCree had begun messaging him through Facebook chat,  sending him things he would typically post publicly to Genji’s wall. It was strange at first, not necessarily unwelcome as the first thing he’d watched was a Chihuahua with a very sad looking Mexican flag strapped to its back stumble down a step. Hanzo had been in the middle of his morning tea and snorted the leaf water out of his nose in an attempt to not spit tea all over his laptop. The result, unfortunately, was the same. Genji had laughed so hard he’d bumped his knee against the support beams underneath their dining room table and both brothers had no choice but to suffer together. Still, the younger Shimada did not fail to notify McCree, which resulted in more videos in tow. There was a lobster on a skateboard rolling across the pavement to a crudely played ‘The Final Countdown’, a seal swirling in a body of water _holding a saxophone_ to ‘Run Away With Me’ and a cat being dragged on a leash to _Evanesence_  of all bands. They were entertaining, yes, but McCree always caught him at a bad time. Once at work, he’d clicked on the notification popup, a little curious and it had left him fighting back tears as he suppressed his laughter. Another time he’d been in an important call to an employee asking for assistance in finding specific information in a spreadsheet and bit his tongue as he’d accidentally opened the chat window by clicking on the video notification. An elongated noise of of distress escaped him and he had to tell the woman on the other end of the line he’d stubbed his toe. She hadn’t sound convinced.

But the worst thing that had happened to him was remembering that _damn_ video about the Chihuahua in the middle of listening to his father talk about how further assassination missions were being distributed out to their agents and he had _snorted_ , the sheer sound of disrespect silenced when he’d slapped a hand over his mouth. His father had looked livid so Hanzo _had_ to admit to the truth and told him he’d remembered something amusing. He got lectured for not paying enough attention. His displeasure for McCree simply rose in consequence, he told himself.

It had become a ‘thing’ in the house ever since, Genji having bought a kazoo to play an even worse rendition of the Chihuahua’s video theme and Hanzo’s level of amusement fell from laughing until he couldn’t feel his stomach to absolutely _hating_ his life. He hid the plastic instrument, if you could call it that, but Genji was suddenly an expert detective when it came to locating it. He still struggled to find his keys in the morning though. It was the 10th time when he’d blasted air into the piece or garbage that Hanzo had to let out some of his growing indignation, replying to McCree with a direct message.  
  
**Jesse McCree**

Genji’s been telling me all about  
how you love the videos lol

Mr. McCree I have a serious issue.  
Genji has not stopped playing that  
infernal sound that accompanies  
the Chihuahua on the godforsaken  
kazoo you linked him to.  
This is causing serious mental distress  
and impacting my performance at  
work. Please cease and desist  
enabling him. I am going mad.  
\- Hanzo

 

He received a reply almost instantly:

 

**Jesse McCree**

and affecting my performance at  
work. Please cease and desist  
enabling him. I am going mad.  
\- Hanzo

Haha oh no im real  
Sorry Shimada. I’ll tell him to go easy  
on ya.  
  
He felt something twist in his gut as the formality of the title normally preceding his name was removed. It hinted at familiarity which felt odd. But he did not protest it, instead letting McCree get away with it. And even if it wasn’t a promise to halt all behaviour relating to making Hanzo’s life a living hell it still was something. Anyway, he could hear a kazoo in the other room that he needed to break. Slamming his laptop lid shut, he stormed into Genji’s room in the midst of the younger man tooting a tune to Smash Mouth’s ‘All Star’.

* * *

  
  
Hanzo was starting to become concerned. Videos turned into actual conversation, McCree messaging him later in the evenings after realising Hanzo worked till 6 but sometimes didn’t get home till 8. He was told the cowboy had to sneak his phone onto his shifts and had been spotted a total of 3 times. This information had come from Sombra also through Facebook. It was so serious Mr. Reyes was threatening to confiscate his phone. A grown adult man’s phone. Hanzo was disappointed in himself for finding humour in it. He'd told McCree to not bother messaging him then but he was _insistent_ because Hanzo was Genji’s older brother and he needed to get to know him better. Hanzo had rolled his eyes when the reply appeared. He’d noticed, he was getting swept up in a rhythm he wasn’t familiar with, that being connections with people who didn’t have any potential for growth business wise. That’s where the concern was present. So he handled it like he handled most problems in life, he created a mental blockade with more work. He drowned out the noise for a couple of weeks as his father had recently connected with some architecture company responsible for several elegant looking estates that seemed perfectly bourgeois for the head of the Shimada family's standards. They were also riddled with corruption, obviously, materials flimsy and corners cut at every avenue. They’d offered help in expanding the lab Dr. Ziegler was currently practicing in, their wish was to develop the department’s utilities in exchange for underhanded methods of eliminating rival companies through the backdoor rather than taking them down with an actual positive repertoire. Obviously they promised to use only the best materials in this project; If the family scratched their back, they'd return the favour. There was one redeeming factor in it all, a young woman known as Satya Vaswani who was completely devoted to her work. His father told him she was ignorant to the underhanded deal he’d arranged and was informed to treat her as kindly as he did Dr. Ziegler. Another one floating on the surface of corruption. They were supposedly bettering the world with the expansion of scientific medical information and progression but they were also arming back alley dwellers who did not need more excuses to carry out more criminal acts. Then again, who was he to say anything, he’d turned a blind eye to it from day one.  
  
Ms Vaswani was formal and concise and her replies were prompt in response time. She was easy to work with, simply requesting a meeting with the members who would be using the facilities she was designing so that she could get the nuances right. It required switching between a few emails from Dr. Ziegler and Ms Vaswani. Hanzo for some bizarre reason, was also required to attend and was designated the middle man position without his consent. He managed to have them scheduled in for a time that worked for all of them, the conversation a little delayed as Dr. Ziegler took her time with replying, he assumed it was a researcher quirk; she was probably preoccupied with more important things.  
  
Hanzo inhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as he leant back in his chair. This whole new investment was driving him up the wall. His father was determined to make it work, probably wanted the positive reputation of furthering prosthetic development associated with the Shimada name, if he knew any better, but Hanzo had been put as the main communicator of the situation. He was watching finances dwindle, starting to feel the stress building as he rummaged through any and all options to cut back and fund the project but it was becoming impossible. He’d asked his father for leeway on the budget but received a smirk in response. “You have plenty of methods you haven’t tried.” _Yeah like smuggling in weapons or subjecting the young population to a new wave of whack crack_. He was certain his father would take over the dirty end of the business if he refused to but how was that any different from him doing it himself. God was Hanzo Shimada going to hell. He pressed his face into the palms of his hands and tried to relax, perhaps there was another way to keep the project going without selling the rest of his soul to the devil.

* * *

  
  
The one thing Hanzo was not prepared for after arriving home was additional stress to worm its way into his life. Genji had practically bounded over to him, grasping at his arms and shaking him somewhat gently but enough to be aggravating and Hanzo levelled a glare at him. The younger Shimada laughed, stopping with the behaviour but there was clear excitement in his actions and it was also displayed all over his face.  
  
“Brother there is a get together tonight.”  
  
“That is nice.”  
  
“You are coming.”  
  
“I no longer think that is nice.”  
  
Genji snorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Does that mean you’re coming?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Hanzo made a move to sidestep around his brother, the younger man shifting in front of him again and the older Shimada let out a growl. Genji whistled as a response before placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in a way of reassurance. “Bad day?”  
  
Hanzo bit his lip. He was wrong taking his aggression out on the kid but Genji still made the effort to check in on him. “Yes, a long one. Sorry.”  
  
“No problem.” He leaned in, grin on his features and Hanzo shrunk back because the next suggestion was one he wasn’t going to like. “But the best way to relax after a long day is a chill evening out with friends and a few drinks.”  
  
“I do not know your friends and I was not invited officially. Also, I refuse the humiliation of being your plus one.”  
  
Genji laughed out loud at that one before looking down to where Hanzo’s phone was stored in his pants’ pocket. “Check your notifications.”  
  
Hanzo had a very bad feeling about this. He slipped the device out of his pocket, shuffling through it before arriving at the Facebook application, opening it and realising he did have a large red indicator screaming out at him. Opening the page, he was greeted by an invite from Jesse McCree and swore silently to himself. Tapping the notification lead him to an event page, the description small but got the point across.  
  
‘Howdy y’all I know it’s late notice but considering Rein and Ana are finally back in town and it's a Friday night I thought it’d be the best time to drag you all to The Flashbang. Gabe’s closing the place down for a break day and will be supplying but asks y’all to also byo. Miss all of us spending time together, let's fix that.’ A smiley emoticon finished the minimal paragraph and Hanzo flipped through the guest list. He recognised 6 people, which was honestly shocking, but everyone else were people he’d never met in his life. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, not wanting to attend at all but he could see Genji watching, waiting for him to agree to go.  
  
“I, even if I am not a plus one I do not wish to attend.”  
  
“I’ll stay sober.” Hanzo’s eyebrows shot sky high, _Genji offering to be sober?_ “I’ll even drive us there.”  
  
“ _What?_ ” Hanzo barely said the word more than he’d breathed it out in a gasp. Had he passed out from overthinking his current project? This had _never_ happened before and Hanzo wasn’t expecting it to start now. “Genji, what did you say?”  
  
“I’ll drive!” He laughed even louder than before, looking far too amused. “You look like you need the time to unwind brother, and Jesse, Sombra and Gabe have been asking to see you again. You’re the newest addition to the group.”  
  
“I do not want to be.” His voice was a whisper, barely audible but the younger Shimada picked up on it anyway.  
  
“Brother please. You isolate yourself from people, even myself. Just because you still work with father does not mean I despise you.” Hanzo swallowed, finding that hard to believe. “I want you there, _we_ want you there. Just give it a try. If you feel uncomfortable I will drive us home.”  
  
He was running out of excuses now. He could say he had work to do but Genji would tell him he deserved the break. He could say he wasn’t feeling well and Genji would pump him with painkillers and still tell him to give it a go. How long had it been since he’d been to a proper social gathering, ignoring the impromptu trip to the bar the last time? Too long for him to remember. The idea of it unsettled him, he was taught to keep people at an arms distance at all times. People were to be used, a method of status growth not human beings. He was good at communicating, sure, but it was all rehearsed. He didn’t know how to truly relate to others, he’d ripped that part of his humanity out, it was a hindrance. But he still had compassion for Genji, maybe he could feign something similar tonight; fake it till he made it. His mental conflict was showing because Genji piped up through his deafening silence.  
  
“You’re thinking too hard I can see it.”  
  
“How would you know?”  
  
“You make this face where you look constipated.”  
  
“Pardon!?” Hanzo swatted at the younger Shimada, the man gasping in amusement in response, deflecting the blow before pulling Hanzo into a headlock, inflicting a serious noogie to his crown.  
  
“Begone bad thoughts!” Hanzo struggled, twisting in his grip but managed his first laugh of the day.  
  
“Give, give!”  
  
Genji smirked, hand stilling, “Now, does _that_ mean you’re coming?”  
  
Hanzo paused, seriously considering it. He had a foreboding feeling that things would go south if he did attend but perhaps Genji was right, maybe he needed a break, even if it was only a temporary escape. “Alright.”  
  
Genji released his grip, smile wider than ever. “There we go!” He extended his arms out for a hug. Hanzo elbowed him in the stomach. He keeled over dropping to the ground as the older of the brothers walked past him. “Ok I deserved that one.”

* * *

  
  
It was with apprehension that Hanzo entered the bar, slowly making his way in behind his brother. But he refused to let it dictate his demeanour, head raised and back straight, pride reverberating through his posture. He was introduced to a multitude of people, his head spinning with the amount of names he had to match to faces but managed to remember some of them. His eyes traced over the open expanse of the bar, spotting the few people he’d met prior, Sombra offering a wave with a wink. Must have been common to wink in the family as a greeting, he guessed. McCree had tipped his hat, ever present smile gracing his features with his parents lingering nearby, the two men chatting idly to themselves but smiled in Hanzo and Genji’s direction when their attention was caught by the Shimadas. Hanzo chose not to remain near them, patently not avoiding McCree but he did see the cowboy’s shoulders fall when he walked in the opposite direction of his family unit. He could hear Sombra’s laughter and mumbling something about sending him too many animal vines. She wasn’t wrong.  
  
He found solace in Dr. Ziegler, abruptly pulling himself away from his brother and making his way over. She was a strange woman, not someone Hanzo would assume he’d enjoy the company of, that was until morality came up in their discussion and he’d seen a more sinister side of the shining doctor. She was seated next to a woman with long dark hair in a high ponytail, one leg crossed over the other and her back as straight as one could possibly manage, ignoring the divot that came with the small of her back. Hanzo could only describe her as immaculate in presentation but in an intimidating way, or maybe that was just her purple lipstick.  
  
“Doctor.” He greeted with a nod of his head, looking between the two women, nodding at the one he did not recognise.  
  
“Ah Mr. Shimada.” She placed a hand on the other woman’s thigh, directing her attention to Hanzo. “This is the one who’s introducing me to one of Vishkar’s top architects, remember me mentioning him?”  
  
“Hm, yes I suppose.” She’d spared a fleeting glance to Hanzo before returning full attention to the doctor, as if waiting for something. The blonde woman hesitated but eventually removed her hand from the other’s thigh. _What?_ Well he decided to go along with social protocol anyway, even if the entire situation was suddenly strung with awkward. And he thought Dr. Ziegler would be easy to talk to.  
  
“Hanzo Shimada, Genji’s older brother.” He looked at the unknown woman who finally decided to properly acknowledge his existence.  
  
“Amélie Lacroix, Angela’s childhood friend.” Ah, so they were _friends_ … _supposedly_. She allowed a smile to creep through her previously flat expression. “Angela has mentioned you. You are easier to talk to than your father, it seems.” Dr. Ziegler looked away, appearing embarrassed as her confession was vocalised to Hanzo. He huffed in amusement, that was typically the case so he was used to it.  
  
“Do not be ashamed Doctor, my father is the worst kind of person to talk with.” The woman, Ms Lacroix, chuckled into an open palm as the doctor’s face coloured with pink and she shied away, “But he does do business well.” Had to salvage the family’s reputation a little at least.  
  
“Ah well, yes I guess so.” She pressed her lips into a pout, aimed at the woman beside her but was pulled from the moment by the call of her name, the same woman Hanzo had seen on McCree’s profile who had been relatively close to the doctor. She towered over him as she made her way over, attention on the blonde with what Hanzo could only assume was affection in her eyes.  
  
“Angela I’ve missed you.”  
  
“Fareeha!”  
  
They immediately dissolved into some form of affectionate babble that had Hanzo zoning out entirely. He was now in a dire need of escape but that seemed to come in the shape of the woman who had now also removed herself from the vicinity of the two… _lovebirds?_  
  
“Hey suit,” Hanzo peered around before pointing to himself in slight confusion, “yes you.” She bit her lip, shutting off her laughter, “You seem like the kind of man who would typically be seen in a suit-jacket and tie combination.” Well she wasn’t wrong. Her voice was wrapped in a thick French accent, her words lulling at the ends and stitched together in a luxurious rhythm but the conclusion of her sentences were punctuated, giving them a sense of intensity; poetic, in a dangerous sense. When she stood, her hair swayed behind her, hitting her generous hips which balanced the rest of her body well and Hanzo couldn’t deny the fact she was gorgeous in the exact opposite way Dr. Ziegler was. They opposed each other in a way that made them match perfectly. It made his mind wander.  
  
“I suppose I do wear a suit for the majority of my life.”  
  
“Mm I understand the sentiment, my husband is quite the same.” Hanzo’s eyes dropped to her left hand and saw the wedding band and the shock must have been written all over his face, “Oh mon ch _é_ ri you have not known Angela for very long I assume.” She rolled her wrist, hand moving in a swirling motion in the air as she tipped her head back, peering at Hanzo from the corner of her gaze as she slowly manoeuvred the two of them away from the blonde and her partner? Making sure they weren’t in hearing range. “She’s an interesting one but keep an eye out.” Pressing a hand to her chest, her shirt possessed a scooping neckline which accentuated a body feature Hanzo’s eyes did not want to focus on, “Thought you should know if you’re working with her.” She leaned in, whispering something for the older Shimada’s ears only, “Manipulative.” Hanzo swallowed. Mrs Lacroix simply giggled in response covering her mouth and it made the entire thing seem like a ruse but Hanzo honestly wasn’t sure. He prided himself in reading people but this entire situation was peculiar. “Ah but I should not talk, rumours are bad, no?”  
  
“I’ll have to agree.” He sounded relaxed, or so he hoped so. He was already questioning his decision to work with a friend of Genji’s, he did not want to have to start questioning her honesty. He wondered if she’d had a conversation about the entire situation with Genji yet, well he certainly hoped she had.  
  
Mr. Reyes had made his way over, focus on Mrs Lacroix, a hand resting on her shoulder as she turned to meet his gaze. “You look like you’re about to face a serious case of exposure Amélie.”  
  
“I do not know what you are talking about.”  
  
“Maybe Mr. Shimada can enlighten you?”  
  
Hanzo coloured, maybe the older gentleman had picked up on his intense eye contact that he was determined to maintain and when he saw the man smirk his question was answered.  
  
“Lindo mon’ami.”  
  
Hanzo scrunched up his face, “Did he just mix two foreign languages together?”  
  
Mrs Lacroix was forced to hide a smile as she turned her head away from the men. “He called you cute.”  
  
Hanzo’s ears burned brighter and he had to scold his complexion back into place. Mortifying. Looks like she knew Spanish as well. He needed to start learning the language. Even if he never met these people again he’d learn it to spite their memory, he could only stand so much humiliation. Mr. Reyes let his amusement show, laughing pleasantly as he held out his hand to shake Hanzo’s “Sorry niño, we’re a multilingual bunch here, it’s why you and Genji fit right in.”  
  
“How much Japanese has he taught you?” He took his hand as quickly as he dropped it.  
  
“Told me how to say shit.”  
  
Hanzo rolled his eyes, “Figures.”  
  
Mr. Reyes vocalised his amusement further and Hanzo found himself enjoying how simple everything suddenly felt, how easy it was to get carried away. Even if his impression of Dr. Ziegler was slowly spiralling into something he wasn’t entirely comfortable with, Mrs Lacroix and Mr. Reyes were easy to talk to, which surprised Hanzo. Mr. Reyes seemed close to Mrs Lacroix, the two of them in each other’s space but looked comfortable about it. There was still a boundary of respect, evident as the both of them were married but it did not hinder the way they talked to each other. Mrs Lacroix was also much younger so that also meant something. Another man made his way in slowly, a charming smile present on his features and two drinks in hand. He beamed at Mr. Reyes and nodded at Mrs Lacroix before handing a glass to the off shift bartender.  
  
“Hey,” he looked in Hanzo’s direction, “Jack Morrison, nice to meet you.”  
  
“Likewise.” The other father. He was more blinding in real life, his glow rivalling Dr. Zieglers but his smile shone with more warmth, just like McCree’s. His hair was practically gold, speckled with the beginnings of greys but it was easy to overlook with how impossibly light the strands were naturally. The husbands (also) contrasted spectacularly which only made it seem like they suited each other even more. They looked happy together, side by side. It was in retrospect he realised he had not introduced himself and cleared his throat before preparing to do so. “Hanzo Shimada. Genji’s brother.”  
  
“Oh yeah of course, the famous brother. Jesse told us he’d invited you. He-“  
  
Mr. Reyes cut his husband off by pushing the second glass that was still in Mr. Morrison’s hand to his lips. Guess Hanzo would never know the end of that sentence but something told him it had to do with how much McCree loved ruining his perfectly normal life with dog videos.  
  
They’d continued with idle chatter, Hanzo somehow involved in conversation, asked about the business and how life was at home with someone like Genji. Chaotic, obviously. He learnt Mrs Lacroix’s husband, Gérard, was currently away for work, his job embedded in secrecy which Hanzo did not want to enquire further into if she could not discuss it with friends. But he’d also worked alongside Mr. Reyes and Mr. Morrison during the time they served in the military, which was also where the couple had met. Their soulmate marks had been said out loud during their time there and have been inseparable ever since. Hanzo said he was pleased for them but didn't want to dwell on it. More people came and went through their conversation, Mrs Lacroix excusing herself as Sombra came to say hello, a boy named, his name was a mouthful, Lúcio Correia dos Santos beside her, both speaking very animated Spanish before greeting Hanzo who looked at them blankly as they slipped back into their mother tongue. Lucio said something in the language again, probably sympathetic, before another girl had been pulled into the fray, casually blowing bubbles with her gum. Hana Song, apparently she was famous, so was Lucio. Hanzo hadn’t heard of them if he was being honest. The young man was wearing rollerblades though, that was ridiculous, Mr. Reyes agreed. He was shown to a sweet Chinese scientist, Ms Mei-Ling Zhou, and her soulmate Ms Aleksandra Zaryanova, who apparently had a few struggles when it came to long distance but were convinced they were perfect for each other. Hanzo wasn’t sure what to think about that, those you were destined to really secured you to one option, something he wasn’t entirely fond of but Genji just said he was afraid of commitment. He didn’t have a comeback for that. There was also Mr. Reinhardt Wilhelm and Ms Ana Amari, a couple who had found each other on the battlefield as well. Apparently Ms Amari was very good friends with Mr. Reyes and Mr. Morrison with the way she teased them and made jokes about their relationship. It was easy to see how fond she was of them and in turn, how fond Mr. Wilhelm was of his partner with the way he watched her. He felt like everyone here was so deeply invested in love and it made a part of him feel extremely tense, suffocated almost. He wouldn’t have this, he wouldn’t be allowed to indulge in the elation couples felt when they saw their destined one smile or be able to relax into casual embraces, like a hand to the back or palms slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle finally finding where they belonged. He took a deep breath, feeling a little light headed before Mr. Morrison took notice and held out a hand for support in case Hanzo needed something to hold onto.  
  
“Apologies, I am fine.”  
  
“You sure? Maybe you should sit down. Jesse can get you some water, he’s behind the counter, offered to stay there most of the night.”  
  
“Maybe he can get you something stronger too.”  
  
“Gabe can’t you see he isn’t feeling well?”  
  
Mr. Reyes snorted, “All the more reason, it’ll help you sleep better tonight.”  
  
Hanzo looked away from both of them muttering a “Do not worry for me.” But he did need something to drink and a place to sit down. Maybe it was finally time to face the cowboy. He excused himself, slow deliberate steps while making his way to the bar counter. He caught the man waving off his brother who was leaving to talk to someone across the room with a clear liquid. Hanzo assumed it was water or they’d have to call an Uber home. It didn’t take long for McCree to catch his gaze, teeth shining behind arched lips and he let an elbow rest on the bar counter, head resting in an upturned palm. He looked lazy, dishevelled and _carelessly handsome_. He was slowly understanding Genji’s taste the more he got to know the man. Stupid humour, stood out in a crowd and charming without even trying. Hanzo was admittedly jealous, he would have preferred living McCree’s lifestyle.  
  
“Well howdy Shimada, what brings you here?”  
  
“Water, preferably.” He settled down on a stool as the other man grabbed him a glass. He moved mindlessly, probably capable of navigating the bar with his eyes closed. Hanzo felt at ease, looking at that easy grin.  
  
He was handed the glass, taking a sip as the man removed his hat, resting it on the counter as he returned to leaning against the wood in front of him. “Thanks f’comin’, didn’t expect it y’know.”  
  
“I almost didn’t, thank Genji.” An honest answer.  
  
“Well that boy has you wrapped around his finger don’t he?”  
  
Hanzo snorted into his glass, “He can make anyone do anything with his puppy dog eyes.”  
  
“Well I’ll be damned, he pulls that one on you too. Thought it wouldn’t work on the older brother.”  
  
“You’d be surprised how much he gets away with.”  
  
McCree laughed, the sound rumbling from his chest. On further inspection, the man’s hair was ridiculously tousled from the headgear he’d been wearing, tawny locks in a haphazard array but the chestnut strands caught the interior lighting with a subtle brilliance, shining golden when illuminated correctly. _Carelessly handsome_ , Hanzo repeated to himself mentally. “He’s lookin’ better today, said he wasn’t drinkin’ which had us all floored.”  
  
Hanzo hummed, agreeing entirely. “Said he wanted to be the designated driver.”  
  
“Hell, he knows what one of those are?”  
  
“Of course his brother is his permanent one.” Hanzo smirked, hidden behind his glass, “Well until today.”  
  
“That mean you’re drinkin’ tonight?” That threw him in a loop he wasn’t sure how to spin out of. Yes he assumed he was going to but suddenly didn’t feel the urge, wanted to remain sober to remember all of this, the evening where he socialised, associated, _existed_. He felt like a fly on the wall, sure, but people still actively tried to engage rather than dance their way around any landmines and create some kind of connection to increase their standing in life. It was weird; Not a bad weird, but still weird. McCree began laughing in front of him and Hanzo turned his head to observe his surroundings, looking for the source of his entertainment. “No, no, it’s you Shimada. Genji said y’good at overthinkin’ things and I can see what he means now.”  
  
Hanzo frowned, brows pressing together as he folded his arms. “Then I will not be drinking.” A childish protest.  
  
McCree made an exaggerated noise of dissatisfaction, throwing his hands up in mock disappointment before landing them on the counter again with a thud. “Y’serious?”  
  
“Completely.”  
  
McCree slipped into silence, thinking over his words before leaning in, if only slightly, with what appeared to be a smirk but Hanzo could see ivory peeping through the expression. “Not t’offend Shimada but live a little. Not like every day Genji volunteers to be designated driver. Loosen up, _let go_.”  
  
Hanzo’s breath caught in the back of his throat. McCree was watching him, completely casual about what he’d said but the older Shimada temporarily forgot where he was. _A coincidence, a coincidence, **a coincidence**_. He forced himself back to the present, refocusing his gaze on McCree, and as if he hadn’t faltered at all, continued with his reply.  
  
“Depends, do you have any sake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T-T-T-T-TITLE DROP  
> so early in too lmaoshdif but it was important!  
> thanks for making it to the end of the chapter!
> 
> Spanish Translations
> 
> \- Lindo - cute  
> \- Niño - boy
> 
> Also French (just in case?)
> 
> \- Mon chéri - My darling  
> \- Mon'ami - My friend
> 
> \+ the videos our beloved cowboy sent hanzo bc im in love with them  
> [chihuahua](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLKSb7f6BUc) (personal fav if it wasn't already obvious)  
> [lobster](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iVecSyZJbUU)  
> [seal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgwpZvTWLmE)  
> [cat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsTf_TlQv6Y)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all i want to apologise for the fact this chapter is sO awkward. I wasn't sure how to write it bc just a bunch of plot points happen and its just so jumpy omg.. , Its more of a transition chapter because i plan on making our main boys finALLY PROPERLY interact in the next one so I promise things pick up after this..... whatever this is!
> 
> Alcohol is mentioned again 
> 
> otherwise thank you for reading!

To Hanzo’s pleasant surprise they did stock sake, courtesy of Genji, and he wasted no time in ingesting some. It had been some time since he’d last drank so he felt his balance swaying almost immediately. It was odd, experiencing the sensation of intoxication all over again, having to relearn how to compose himself while under the influence. He kept his gaze on McCree, the man grinning as he topped up his glass for the, well, Hanzo lost count. The cowboy chuckled and if that didn’t send a tingle shooting up his spine. He was so charismatic, Hanzo couldn’t wrap his head around it, how the man could look so ridiculous but still be so appealing? _Ok too far_. He was not going down that track when Genji was only just recovering from it. The older Shimada dazed in and out after that. He heard himself laughing with McCree before he was greeted by Dr. Ziegler and her _partner?_ Fareeha Amari, Ana Amari’s daughter, he managed to process that much. They were undeniably cavity inducing together as the taller woman wrapped her arm around the doctor, love evident in her actions and Hanzo looked away, he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t bring himself to witness it currently. More people came, Mr. Wilhelm appearing again and he was absolutely massive, towering over everyone, head precariously close to the ceiling. His voice boomed, as if he didn’t know how to stop yelling. He watched the man arm wrestle McCree into defeat and Hanzo couldn’t stop the snort that escaped him. McCree clenched his fist in challenge, muttering a “One day.”  
  
Another man appeared, almost rivalling Mr. Wilhelm in height but not quite there, glasses adorning his face as his voice lilted in a pleasant manner, the man extraordinary polite. He introduced himself as Winston with a younger woman by her side. She winked in Hanzo’s direction, a tilt of her head accompanying the action as she told the older Shimada she was Lena Oxton followed by a “lovely to meet ya, luv!” The bar counter was becoming the hotspot, people crowing around, brave souls challenging Mr. Wilhelm to strength competitions. Lucio, Hana and Sombra combined their efforts in attempt to overpower the much larger man who seemed to defeat them effortlessly. His laugh resounded through the bar with such intensity that Hanzo swore he felt the floor shake. Everyone looked so comfortable, basking in each other’s company and when Hanzo looked over to Genji he could see his brother smiling, lit up so brightly the older Shimada almost didn’t recognise him. He was so _happy_. Hanzo’s heart twisted, a mixture of pain and affection. They gave him something his family couldn’t; love, and he looked so at peace because of it.   
  
The brothers made eye contact. Genji raising a brow before making his way over to Hanzo, curiosity in his stare.  
  
“You ok brother?”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”  
  
“It’s good to see you smiling.” Genji’s face immediately began to burn and he hid his features in an open hand. Hanzo couldn’t contain his amusement, laughter loud which drew more attention to the younger Shimada, people cooing in his direction, laden with endearment.  
  
“Ay cuate! You’re so red! So cute Genji.” Sombra crooned, slapping his back which only made the man hide his face further.  
  
“Aw he’s so embarrassed, what did your bro say?” Lucio chimed in without a second to spare. The room’s gaze swung back to the older Shimada, Hanzo simply shrugging in response which earned a few laughs. The crowd returned to Genji, nudging him gently and showering him with affection and Hanzo felt his heart sing. He said he didn’t care who Genji spent his time with as long as they kept him out of too much trouble and he thought he meant it, but tonight made it obvious that he truly did care because he had never felt such pleasure when it came to seeing Genji genuinely happy. He leant back against the bar counter, watching as the kid was further embarrassed. He was completely engrossed which had him almost leap out of his skin when he felt velvet vocals caress his ear and it made him bite back the beginnings of a gasp.   
  
“Yer a good brother Shimada.” A hand on his shoulder, the slight scent if cigarillo smoke, earthly undertones and tawny strands in his peripherals. “Know I said it before but I really mean it.” Hanzo wanted to accept the compliment but his heart wouldn’t stop hammering and his ears wouldn’t stop ringing. That southern drawl wrapped around him and encompassed him in such a warm intensity; it made him dizzy even as he sat. And then it withdrew, the man behind him going with it. Hanzo turned, looking at him, hoping his shock didn’t show as the cowboy tipped his hat at him, ever present grin stretching in a friendly gesture and the older Shimada looked down, a soft “thank you” slipping past parted lips as he too, had to hide his blossoming face in a hand. He blamed it on the alcohol.  


* * *

  
  
He woke up on Saturday wanting to stab himself in the brain with a fork but it also felt like someone had beaten him to it. Drinking was a terrible idea. There was a hint of nausea but he was sure he’d be able to keep it down. Most of the prior evening faded in and out but he was pleased knowing the majority of his memory had remained intact. He took his time going through his morning routine, he’d already woken up later than usual, delaying himself further was hardly an issue now. He stepped out into the main living room, half dressed, scrubbing his hair with a towel, the long strands still damp but he finally felt comfortably clean. Genji was in the conjoint open kitchen, situated behind the kitchen counter. He glanced up before returning his attention to buttering his toast. “Put a shirt on you’ll poke one of our eyes out.”  
  
“It’s not _that_ cold.” Genji snorted in response. Hanzo made his way over, turning on the kettle to boil himself some jasmine tea, whatever they’d found in the supermarket, he was not putting in the time and effort to properly infuse anything right now. Leaning against the kitchen counter by Genji, he pressed a hand to his forehead, a loud exhale leaving him and he heard the younger Shimada snort for a second time.  
  
“Haven’t seen you that gone in a long time.” Hanzo turned his head back up to the other man, quizzical look to his face. Had he done something bad? He couldn’t remember anything particularly terrible. Sure McCree had him in a spin for maybe a solid 20 seconds but other than that- “You’re rarely so honest.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“It was nice seeing you smile too.”  
  
Hanzo coloured at an alarming rate, slipping from their mother tongue to scold his brother in English, “Shut your mouth.”  
  
Genji laughed openly. Hanzo elbowed his side gently in return.  
  
“Thank you for doing that last night.” He returned to Japanese  
  
“Felt like I owed you.”  
  
“You owe me another 50 rounds at least.”  
  
The brothers spent their Saturday off together, mingling in each other’s space and enjoying the ambient peace that came with the periods of silence. Hanzo was shocked, he was so used to retreating to solitude on his days off. He didn’t necessarily avoid Genji or dislike spending time with him but he felt like they didn’t have any common ground. But spending somewhat forced time with the younger Shimada had him genuinely appreciating his brother’s company. He couldn’t believe he had Jesse McCree to thank for that. _Ridiculous_. Which brought his thoughts back to the cowboy. He’d said a line the night before that sent his usually rational brain on a minor tangent and the more he lingered on it the easier it was for him to conclude that the words had been so insignificant he wasn’t sure why he’d reacted so dramatically. If that was the line he was supposed to melt over he’d curse destiny even more, nothing about it was romantic. Arriving at a conclusion he was satisfied with, he relaxed further into the couch beside Genji and pressed another senbei to his mouth. As boring as he found horror movies, watching his younger brother muffle screams into couch pillows was a good way to end a Saturday; Hanzo hoped they could do things like this more often.  


* * *

  
  
Walking into the lab, Hanzo caught eye of Dr. Ziegler on entry, the woman waving a delicate hand in his direction, a smile gracing her features. He nodded in acknowledgment, making his way over as she did the same, coffee in hand. “Hello Mr. Shimada, good to see you again.”  
  
“Likewise, has Ms Vaswani arrived yet?”  
  
She shook her head, her stance shifting, the subtle sound of heels tapping against hard clinical floors echoing in their almost silent surroundings, “Not yet. Though you are early.”  
  
Hanzo pressed a hand to his mouth to hide a small smile, “I suppose I am.” He was doing that more often, smiling. McCree’s messages on Facebook were coming more frequently and he’d been invited to the large group chat consisting of those he’d met at the bar, terribly named as ‘th3 squ@d’, courtesy of Hana. The contents of the conversation were mainly just a lot of amusing images and commentary on peculiar things people witnessed throughout the day. Hanzo didn’t participate but he did read the messages, letting himself actually enjoy observing the interactions. He still wasn’t sure how to handle the entire situation but he had come to realise he did not hate it, surprisingly enough, and it was changing his entire mood. “How is everything going? Any progress?”  
  
The doctor’s stance straightened, enthusiasm evident, “With the rate we’re going at we might have a proper opportunity to build a prototype soon. Thanks to your family things are moving so much faster than any of us expected. I’ve never seen Winston so happy.” _Oh right, the larger man with the glasses worked here_ , “With Vishkar helping increase the sizing of our facilities, and this is looking far more into the future, we’ll be able to build several prosthetics at incredible rates, it’s truly a blessing.” So was Dr. Ziegler’s voice but Hanzo would never say that out loud.  
  
“I am pleased to hear, father will be too.” She nodded, her expression evening slightly but there was still a slight curve to her lips. Dr. Ziegler then offered to make him tea or coffee and Hanzo couldn’t say no to the former, the woman slipping away to wherever their kitchen was located. He pulled out his phone to check a few emails for the time being, almost dropping the device when he glanced up at the sound of the automatic doors sliding open and seeing Ms Vaswani accompanied by _Sombra?_ Of all the people, why would she be there, looking equally as shocked as Hanzo did. Ms Vaswani remained neutral, her gaze peering around her surroundings, seemingly uninterested in her company’s utter confusion.  
  
“Shimada? What are you doing here?”  
  
“You’re an architect?” Easily deflected the subject.  
  
Clicking of heels came to an abrupt halt behind Hanzo, the sound of the doctor’s voice adding to the confusion, “Sombra?” What was happening here?  
  
Ms Vaswani finally decided to speak up, her posture immaculate as she made her way further into the building. “Sombra has decided to assist me with a few personal matters that I have in association to the project, please do not mind her.” Well that defused the absurdity rather abruptly.  
  
The young woman following the elegant Indian cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest in a way to ground herself again. “Right uh- yeah don’t mind me I’m just observing.” She made eye contact with Dr. Ziegler, not as shocked to see her. Seemed she’d done some research into who was going to be present. Ms Vaswani made her way to the scientists who were involved with the project, the only gesture she made to Hanzo being a slight dip of her head. He appreciated the silence, he was still piecing his composure back together anyway.   
  
Ms Vaswani wasted no time in asking the multitude of questions she had for the scientists along with presenting blueprints she had already written out with what she knew about the building. It was an extension allowing for more equipment and for more staff to be hired for the creation of prosthetic development. On closer examination, she appeared to have one of her own, her left forearm replaced by a mechanical one. The hand moved rather well so she must be quite accustomed to it; that might have been the reason she was assigned to the project. Hanzo remained to the side, not necessarily involved in the situation, just overseeing the entirety of it. But he did have Sombra beside him, watching things unfold. She spoke up as the others made their way out of earshot, but her voice was still very low.  
  
“Satya told me about an external source helping with the project but she hadn’t mentioned it being the Shimadas. What a coincidence.”  
  
Hanzo looked at her, brows knit together, “That doesn’t explain your presence here.”  
  
The corner of the woman’s lips quirked up hearing that, looking over at Hanzo with silent amusement. “Not sure if I can trust you suddenly if you’re working with Vishkar.”  
  
Hanzo felt his blood run cold. How much did she know? If she knew the company was overridden with corruption then it was easy to figure out the Shimada name wasn’t as perfect as it seemed to be. He forced his face to appear as neutral as possible but he suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea. His reply was as fluid as he could manage it to be, “What do you mean?”  
  
“Feigning innocence Príncipe Azul?”  
  
_What did she just call him?_ He blocked out his curiosity, fixing his attention on the more important matter at hand. Because yes, he was, but he had to. He couldn’t let people know the Shimadas were working with a corrupt group of architects while knowing about it. “Not that I know of.”  
  
Her smirk only widened, eye contact so commanding Hanzo couldn’t look away, something that reminded him of Mr. Reyes, but he didn’t let his disposition falter either. He was good at this, putting on face.  
  
“Huh ok. Well whatever, guess you should know if you’re doing business with them. I do a lot of digging you see.” She waved her hand, speaking as if she were conversing about the weather, “Nothing entirely damning but see here amigo, there’s rumours of straight up corruption in their ranks. Like actual criminal behaviour. I spend a lot of my time on the web and I find a lot of things but I recently came across Satya, tempted to weasel some info’ out of her right? Turns out she’s oblivious to it, refuses to believe me. But after some serious work in the sweet talking department she’s letting me tag along to see what I can find.” Why was she telling him this without any further questioning? A part of him felt like it was because she thought she could trust him and that made Hanzo sick to his stomach. He remembered why he didn’t talk to people outside of work now. “Anyway, maybe you should tell me what you know now because I’ll just figure everything out for myself but I’ll have a lot more respect for you if you talk.”  
  
Hanzo wanted to vomit. How could he handle this? What was the appropriate response? Protecting the Shimada name obviously. He should inform his father there was a dangerous woman seemingly well versed in information collection and was out for Vishkar blood which meant the Shimadas were in trouble too. That’d result in Sombra being targeted, probably killed. Why did she have to show up, why did she have to stumble into this mess of a situation? Hanzo finally looked away, back to Dr. Ziegler talking to Ms Vaswani, allowing his eyes to focus on anything that wasn’t the woman beside him. He told her a variant of the truth.  
  
“The family had been informed of some rumours, but they were nothing more than idle whispers. Yes, father was deterred originally but changed his mind even after I protested but for convenience sake we went with them. Additionally, we did a background check on Ms Vaswani and her slate was clean so we took the solid evidence of the architect’s spectacular reputation over the circling gossip.” Hanzo hated himself.  
  
Sombra’s expression levelled, the man noted from his peripheral vision as she hummed. “A little immoral Shimada.”  
  
“Unfortunately, we still need to run a business and the industry is not known for its honesty.”  
  
Sombra huffed. “Gotcha, thanks for going against your family code and telling me that much at least.”  
  
He was surprisingly more hurt by the sentence than what he’d expect despite being used to telling half-truths but continued his expression of indifference. “You’re Genji’s friend.”  
  
She made a noise bordering amusement as she playfully punched Hanzo’s arm, “We’re friends too dork.”  
  
Every single part of his insides twisted. The last time he’d heard someone call him his friend was when he was in his early teens. He wanted to enjoy it but the conflicting emotions of not being able to be honest with Sombra hurt. He ignored it, pushing it to the back of his mind, trying to maintain his natural disposition. “I don’t remember agreeing to this relationship.”  
  
She laughed properly this time, a tone Hanzo was familiar with and he relaxed. “Nope, no way amigo, I’ve decided so there’s no escaping it.”  
  
Hanzo rolled his eyes, choosing not to dignify the reply with a response.  
  
She spoke up again after a short period of silence. “I’ll tell you if I find solid evidence against Vishkar, in case you want to change your plan of attack when you find out they’re waist deep in mierda, si?”  
  
Hanzo wasn’t sure what mierda was but with context clues he assumed it wasn’t good. “Si.”  
  
That made her grin and Hanzo forced himself to return the expression without feeling much of the entertainment behind it.  


* * *

  
  
Life continued mindlessly after that, nothing happening that stuck out to Hanzo. It had been a month now, at least, the tiring repetition of work and discussions of the current project he was currently managing draining the man of most his energy. He made more time for Genji, the major change in his life and Sombra had begun messaging him. Hanzo didn’t find it unwelcome but she talked about Ms Vaswani so often he was starting to assume things. A bad trait, but Genji confirmed it for him one day, stating Sombra’s sudden interest in architecture was fuelled by her equally as sudden interest in Ms Vaswani. He also told the younger brother about her mentioning the Shimada name which had Genji looking genuinely concerned for a second. She was _really good_ at what she did, according to the younger Shimada and that increased Hanzo’s previously milder fears. Genji had only managed to get those fears under control after stating if she was desperate to get information about the family she would have drilled him already. Slow and neutral was the best way to handle the woman so Hanzo did as such, treating her with as much indifference as he previously did. But the vines she was also sending alongside McCree had been grabbing his attention recently.  
  
But he was ripped from the idle monotony when his father summoned him, the man standing with his back to his office door. Peering out at the setting sun over the skyline, his face was firm and he didn’t bother looking in Hanzo’s direction when he entered. Hanzo cleared his throat, waiting for the reason for his presence before his father stated flatly.  
  
“I want you to get married.”  
  
Oh _hell_. “Sorry?”  
  
“I’ve been given a proposal from the Hirota family, they’re willing to join our families together, you are to marry their oldest daughter.”  
  
Hanzo felt the blood drain from his body. He knew the day would come where he’d be used as a bargaining chip. The Hirota family were just as well known as the Shimadas and the two families had done business together in the past, be it either legal or illegal. They were a prominent candidate, Hanzo had to admit. He’d met the oldest daughter too, who was docile and charming in own her right but there was nothing significant that caught Hanzo’s attention and that made the entire situation even more unappealing. Again, he knew the day would come, but he didn’t think it would come this soon.  
  
“Have you,” Hanzo bit his lip, “have you already accepted?”  
  
His father finally looked at him, peering over his shoulder, his visage obscured by the blaring warmth of the orange reds and purples bleeding together, illuminating the edges of his frame. He was asking for one thing, and one thing only, subordination.   
  
“Something wrong if I have?” Hanzo had to force himself to inhale. Opening his mouth, he was cut off before being given the chance to say anything. “Are you planning on disappointing me Hanzo?” A low blow, the younger man feeling a sharp pain whip over his chest, striking his pride mercilessly. “Since when did you care about who you married?” He exhaled and it came out in a wave of uncertainty. He didn’t care, he didn’t, _He did-_ “Say something.”  
  
“I did not expect it to be so sudden. Sorry I did not mean to be rude.”  
  
His father hummed, moving from his position, stature perfect as he strode to his desk with wide steps. “You are still hesitant. What happened?” He turned to Hanzo, looking at him, gaze piercing. “Find your soulmate?” His face remained neutral but the younger man could feel his father’s mocking tone. The question was ludicrous of course. He pursed his lips, the corners curling downward.  
  
“No. That will never be an issue.”  
  
“But you are still uncertain.”  
  
It was a statement and Hanzo knew he had to agree, even if it took a long moment of silence. “Yes.”  
  
His father rolled his eyes and took a seat. He leaned back in his chair, features now completely obscured by the back lighting. “I’m disappointed, but we are not desperate for the arrangement to be made immediately. I can give you time to think, but you already know what I expect from you.” Hanzo already knew his fate had been sealed, the time he was being given were his last moments of freedom in a sense, his father was pitying him.  
  
“Yes father, thank you.”  
  
“Do not thank me, just make your decision quickly.”  
  
There was no decision to be made, just as much time he could manage to stall for. Hanzo couldn’t help but wonder why he was suddenly hesitating despite knowing that this day was coming for almost all of his life. He shared in his father’s disappointment in himself.  
  
So when he arrived home he did the only thing he could do, talk to his brother about it. Genji was shocked, obviously, but not because the marriage proposal had finally arrived.  
  
“You’re not going through with it?” Hanzo furrowed his brows with disapproval, “Oh not that I think you should it’s just, you’ve always said this was the life you were born in to so you were going to accept it.”  
  
The older brother inhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his forehead. The same question swam through his head over and over. His only explanation was seeing everyone in Genji’s group of friends seeming so happy together, soulmates side by side, affection and adoration between everyone so immense it was swallowing his conviction and Hanzo was struggling with it. He was beyond this, _above it_ but here he was, refusing a completely valid proposal because _what if he wanted to fall in love?_ God, he was becoming sentimental; entirely frustrating.  
  
“I do not know. Father will not take no for an answer but he has given me time.”  
  
“Wow.”  
  
Hanzo snorted, stirring the pot of curry he was preparing, the best kind of comfort food. “I don’t know what you find surprising in that sentence.”  
  
“Everything, you taking your time with it and father not demanding you to get married tomorrow.”  
  
“Please you know he’d put on the whole big show and have an elaborate engagement party and then delay the wedding for another 8 to 9 months to bring up the excitement again.”  
  
Genji threw his hands up, “I forgot this whole family has a flair for dramatics.”  
  
“And you’re the worst.”  
  
Genji gave him the biggest shit eating grin Hanzo had seen to date. But he returned to silence, chopping a few spring onions for garnish. His expression flipped to something he wasn’t so accustomed to wearing, looking far too serious and it made him look older than he was.   
  
“Don’t marry anyone if you do not want to brother. You might miss out on the one who will love you most in this world.”  
  
Hanzo’s sigh was loud and unnecessarily long but then again, he was also a Shimada, “I will not. I do not plan on finding my soulmate and I do not care for it.”  
  
“But maybe they do?”  
  
“Impossible, I would never be destined to someone who would focus on something so trivial.”  
  
“Oh yeah? Well you’re impossible.”  
  
Hanzo let a small laugh escape him but something inside him twisted in a way that made everything so much more uncomfortable. He swallowed his next breath, trying to control the rising bile collecting at the back of his throat. Would someone be upset if he let himself marry into a loveless marriage? Would _he,_ of all people, break someone’s heart? He couldn’t fathom it but the thought was there now and it was making the entire situation harder. He had never let himself consider it until recently, and now that he was here, thinking about it, he couldn’t agree to the proposal his father had arranged for him and the judgment he felt pressing down on his back was incredibly taxing. He wasn’t made for romance, he was made for success. So why was he letting such a subjective emotion rule his decision making? It was infuriating.  
  
“You’re doing the constipation thing again.”  
  
“Shut up Genji.”  
  
His brother laughed and it eased the strain on his heart, if only a little.   
  
“Even if you don’t want anyone to love you, just so you know, it’s too late.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“‘Cause I love you.”  
  
Hanzo stared deep into the pot of curry, ignoring how utterly embarrassing that was and how Genji had managed to voice it without wavering.  
  
“ _Shut up Genji_.” His words were laced with affection this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI I LIVE FOR HEALTHY SHIMADA BROTHER INTERACTIONS GIVE ME HAPPY BROTHERS PLEASE
> 
> Spanish translations 
> 
> \- Cuate - mate / pal  
> \- Príncipe Azul - Prince Charming  
> \- Amigo - friend  
> \- Mierda - shit  
> \- Si - yes


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crashes in hi i hope u like 3k words of mchanzo bein goofballs bc i sure as heck do and i have been sO Excited to write this chapter!!!!
> 
> there'll be a lot more of them socialising now thank god LOL sorry to make everyone wait for actual communication that lasted longer than 2 lines!
> 
> otherwise i hope you all enjoy the chapter!

The last place Hanzo expected himself to be after his brother had forcefully dragged him away from his home desk was at Mr. Reyes and Mr. Morrison’s house for a… _movie night?_ This was becoming commonplace, first starting with being involved in group conversations and now occasionally being invited out to meet up with Genji’s group of friends. This time he’d been thrown onto a beanbag chair, suffocated by his brother basically planting himself on top of Hanzo and made sure his escape routes were closed off. He was officially secured in front of a flat screen TV with a bowl of popcorn resting to Genji’s right. Considering he normally rejected all invitations on an account of work, they’d gone all out and he’d been confronted by several people before being dragged to the event. The first invitation came from Sombra, then Genji, then the husbands themselves and _then_ McCree and he obviously refused them all because he could be doing so much more in the time it took to watch 5 movies in a row, or whatever ridiculous number they wanted to go through. Apparently no wasn’t an answer though. Which is how he found himself watching Grease with ‘Summer Nights’ reaching its full glory as Danny made obscene comments about the girl he’d spent his school break with. He could see the cowboy, on his left side, bobbing his head along to the tune and enjoying it far too much. Hanzo massaged his temples, for once wishing he had to attend to an important issue that required immediate attention, mentally willing for _anything_ to pull him out of the current situation. He was still stressed out about the arranged marriage he hadn’t denied but put on hold indefinitely.  
  
His gaze swept around the room, looking at the people gathered in it. It was basically the same crowd from the other night at the bar, Ms Vaswani being an addition who looked as uncomfortable as Hanzo felt and he couldn’t help but relate to how withdrawn she seemed with when it came to social gatherings. Sombra had seated herself beside her, trying to ease her into the whole thing, and if Hanzo wasn’t imagining things he could have sworn the taller woman relaxed a minute amount. Sure it was minimal but existent, perhaps Sombra was making more progress than everyone assumed. Dr. Ziegler had settled next to Ms Amari, the daughter, Mrs. Lacroix beside her as well. He still hadn’t solved whatever it was that happened between the two women but he knew there was history, _there had to be_. It was so bizarre, how he’d been thrust into this whirlwind of a social clique and was learning the subtleties and now the _gossip_. People had asked him about Genji and how he felt about McCree as well. He shut them all down without hesitation. He couldn’t believe how interested everyone was in it. If he were desperate he’d ask about the angelic doctor and the opposing married ballerina. He was shocked when he was told Mrs. Lacroix’s profession but in a sense, it suited her. Perhaps if she played Odile? But Odette and Odile were typically played by the same dancer; maybe the woman had a sweeter side too.  
  
Hanzo was progressively losing interest in the film, eyes closing, perhaps he could get an early night napping on the beanbag, if it counted, and then wake up and feel energised in the morning and catch up on the work he’d planned for the Friday night before having the rest of his Saturday off. Genji was going out so it was good timing as well. On that note, he let his vision black out, settling back more comfortably against his brother, resting peacefully until he was jolted awake by a phone call. _Of course_ , business struck when he’d lost the conviction to complete it. Checking the ID number, it was a subordinate and Hanzo had no chose but to excuse himself.  
  
He’d stepped out onto the back porch of la casa Reyes-Morrison (he was learning) and ran his employee through the steps they’d requested help with. It astounded Hanzo how they’d forgotten to save a critical document and couldn’t retrieve it because, additionally, they’d lost the file location. After the call was over, he let himself rest against the wooden railing that overlooked a humble garden laid out with sweet flowers blooming through spring. Pink tinted magnolias curled over winding branches, petals scattering over the yard, darkened by night sky. It reminded him of home with cherry blossoms scattering over branches in a similar fashion but these weren’t as dense and the cursed LA heat continued into the night. Japan could get hot but it was also capable of being cold. LA was never cold.  
  
He heard the sliding door behind him open, Hanzo making a move to see who was behind the action but was instead informed by a familiar jingle and rolled his eyes. Those ridiculous spurs.  
  
“Howdy.”  
  
“Hello McCree.” He turned, back pressing against the railing now, catching sight of the intruder. He looked far more simple than when he was usually out, tight black cotton shirt pulling against his chest and ripped jeans, they were in fashion apparently. He still had his typical boots and Stetson, dipping the latter accessory as he met Hanzo’s gaze. He looked happy, but then again, he always did.  
  
“Came out for a smoke, y’mind?”  
  
He did, a little. But he didn’t mind McCree’s company in small doses so he shrugged. McCree took that as enough of an answer, mimicking Hanzo’s earlier pose and lit his cigarillo. The smell was familiar and the shorter male realised it lingered around McCree everywhere he went. He exhaled into the garden’s direction, making sure to spare Hanzo as much as he could from the smoke and he appreciated it, somewhat. They remained in silence, Hanzo fiddling with his phone again. He did not want to go inside again, lest ‘Greast Lightning’ started playing and Genji would somehow manage to materialise a kazoo to toot along to it. He pursed his lips, the idea the opposite of appealing and McCree looked over, clearly noticing his expression.  
  
“Somethin’ wrong pardner?”  
  
_God_ he was a cliché.  
  
“Not sure if I have the mental strength to go back inside.”  
  
McCree laughed at that, open and honest. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight, features sharper in the minimal lighting and it made him appear more rugged. It had an odd appeal.  
  
“Then let’s blow the joint.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“We should bail.” Hanzo was nothing short of shocked. He stared openly at the other man. Was he suggesting running away from his family and friends for a random late night escapade? The man was the dictionary definition of disaster.  
  
“Not to offend but I do not see anything that we would be able to do that could out stage,” he gestured to the inside of the house, “that.”  
  
“Oh you’d be surprised sugar.” McCree was grinning from ear to ear and Hanzo was forced to look away after the term of endearment was murmured in that sweet baritone but the man used them like Hanzo used hand sanitiser, which was far too frequent. “I’ll show you a good time the ol’ fashioned way. Trust me.” Hanzo looked sceptical, for good reason. What was he going to do, take him square dancing… at 9pm? It was a Friday night though, anything was possible. He narrowed his eyes, still not sold and McCree seemed to deflate in response but repeated his last sentence as he stubbed out his smoke. “ _Trust me._ ”  
  
Hanzo was going to regret this.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
His smile shone through the night like a lighthouse calling stray ships back home and Hanzo was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. He was always dazzled by it, by the man beside him, and he wasn’t sure if it was dangerous or not. Most likely the former but he chose to ignore it and would address the issue later if it reached an ‘out of control’ level. “Well thank ya, now I can’t disappoint, can I?”  
  
“I’ll never forgive you if you do.” The banter rolled off his tongue so easily with the man, like they’d been teasing each other for years.  
  
McCree looked wounded, hat pressed to chest. “Well way to lay the pressure on Shimada. Now pack y’things, we’re off.”  
  
He let the cowboy lead him into the night, the two men climbing over the backyard fence as their escape. Hanzo felt like a kid again, escaping the Shimada mansion with Genji when they were still in school. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was letting himself do this considering how infantile it was, running away from a movie night with a man he barely talked to if you ignored the dog videos. It must have been another trait of McCree’s, this undeniable pull alongside the knowledge of knowing he’d make sure you were safe by the end of whatever he was subjecting you to. It was enough to have Hanzo following him, at least.  


* * *

  
  
McCree had Hanzo clamber over a few fences that night, the two men stumbling around their dark surroundings, McCree’s infernal boots clicking the entire way and had made more than one dog start barking. Hanzo had scolded him for it but that only seemed to increase McCree’s amusement. They continued walking for a decent amount of time, Hanzo questioning McCree’s judgment of a ‘good time’ and was hushed as he was pulled along with a little more insistence. They chatted idly in the meantime. About simple things, like what they came across during their polar opposite jobs or the constellations overhead, McCree pointing out Perseus in particular. When Hanzo asked why he replied with “Y’seem like the kinda’ guy who knows a lot about history, so maybe y’know him too.” Hanzo did know Perseus and he was suddenly very ashamed of said knowledge as he remembered Sombra calling him a dork. Eventually they’d reached some sort of destination, the taller male examining a wire fence this time, fiddling with a mechanism blindly as they stood in an oddly open expanse. Cracking through, the gate’s opening swung and McCree pushed it to the side, standing by it to allow Hanzo through. He dipped his head as thanks before walking into the fenced off area and looked back to the other man, quizzical.  
  
“Where are we?”  
  
“Now that’s for me t’know and for you t’find out.” His grin still shone as bright as the north star but it was blindingly annoying this time. As they walked further in, what appeared to be a garden came into view. Stunningly ornate, flora bloomed around them as they paced towards the nature inspired artwork. It was clear specific flowers were strategically placed into arrangements to further illustrate their beauty, shrubbery and trees growing in alternating lengths to create a semblance of texture and Hanzo sucked in a breath of surprise. It was honestly gorgeous, a centrepiece catching his attention, a beautiful water feature consisting of a large pond with koi, their scales reflecting the moon’s light magnificently, and the Shimada was once again reminded of home. He was lost in it all, mesmerised by their surroundings and he allowed himself a moment to simply exist without thinking of his next course of action or what he was required to do for work tomorrow. He remained in this peace, completely content until a bounding ball of fluff came sprinting over, pure white and full of energy. It tumbled into McCree without hesitation as the larger man laughed merrily, embracing the dog with pure enthusiasm. On closer inspection, it appeared to be a Samoyed, evident by the mass of fur it carried on its body. It barked with excitement and McCree shushed it, rubbing the top of its head. Hanzo took a moment to enjoy the sight that was the fluffy canine until he realised, what was a perfectly groomed Samoyed dog doing in the wild? He looked again and this time he saw a collar. Hanzo paused again, properly analysing the situation this time before he yanked McCree’s hat down by its brim and hissed as quietly as he could manage.  
  
“Are we seriously trespassing on private property right now?”  
  
“Well gee y’catch on quick don’t you?”  
  
Hanzo almost screamed.  
  
“What are you crazy? This is illegal!” He was one to talk.  
  
“It’s nice though aint it?”  
  
“That is beside the point, _cowman!_ ” McCree muffled his laughter into the dog, Hanzo fumed further in consequence, but he was far from done. “Why does this dog know you? Do you trespass frequently? What kind of secret property invading life do you lead? Do I need to report you?”  
  
McCree held his hands up in surrender, the dog whined from the loss of contact which the cowboy remedied to stop the animal from making any further noise. “Look it’s only this place. This guy was at the gate once and he looked awful lonely so I had to, y’know? Seems like the owners are overseas almost all the time anyways. Not a surprise if you consider how well off they seem.” Hanzo had to suppress a growl. He couldn’t believe McCree had made the heir to a major mafia-esque family commit a minor crime without realising it. He took back all positive impressions he had of the man, he _definitely_ hated Jesse McCree.  
  
“I’m leaving.”  
  
McCree grabbed his arm, holding it firmly in his hand and looked Hanzo in the eyes. He suddenly couldn’t move.  
  
“C’mon I haven’t even shown y’the best bit.”  
  
Hanzo opened his mouth to protest but McCree placed an index finger to his lips with his free hand, shining his signature smile and pulled the smaller man along after one more long pet for the dog. By the best thing, McCree meant an enormous swimming pool fitted with fountain like pieces, lion heads emptying water out of their mouths into the man-made body of water. Hanzo thought it was a little gaudy but he was used to luxury. The bathing room they had at the main Shimada mansion was far more elaborate than this, but it was not even close to as western influenced. Despite the minor short coming, the pool was built on the edge of a cliff face, the edge of it made of glass, lined up with a dramatic descent of nothing. It was as if they’d carved the angle of a hill into a strict 90 degree one but what it left was absolutely stunning. It overlooked the garden of flowers, showing the florals combine together and paint an image of some sort of Celtic knot curling around the koi pond in the centre. It was breathtakingly gorgeous and Hanzo let a gasp of surprise leave him. McCree looked smug, damn him.  
  
“Pretty aint it?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Worth the trip?”  
  
Hanzo bit his lip and begrudgingly admitted, “Yes.”  
  
McCree’s smugness raised in return. Hanzo did the only rational thing one could in the given situation. He pushed McCree into the pool, the man crashing into the water with a howl before descending into a show of splashing water and flaying limbs. Now Hanzo looked smug. When the man surfaced properly, his hat drooped sadly onto his face and McCree looked like a rain soaked dog. It was, quite frankly, hilarious. Hanzo had to cover his mouth with one hand and look away to minimise his laughter. That was a mistake because the moment he did McCree dragged him in too and Hanzo sounded just as unrefined as McCree had. He went under, liquid muting his scream before he pushed himself up to surface, gasping greedily for air after the shock of submerging so suddenly. He coughed harshly and turned his head to glare at the other man. But when he looked over he had to pause, because how could he not when sun kissed skin glistened in a way that shone with moisture, beads of water still rolling down his face. His brown locks clung to his face, still in a disarray, and with his hat removed, now resting on solid ground on the pool edge, Hanzo got a proper view of them again. They still managed to stick up slightly despite being covered in water and it gave off the impression that they were impossible to tame, much like the man they belonged to. He didn’t stop smiling, looking positively thrilled to be soaking wet in a pool at 10 in the evening. And then he pushed his hair back off his face, chestnut strands pressed back to reveal caramel eyes, the icy lighting skewing them to a darker brown and increasing their intensity. Hanzo’s throat tightened and he was forced to look away.  
  
“We both deserved this.”  
  
“Glad we can agree pardner.”  
  
Hanzo chose to splash McCree a few more times before climbing out of the pool, doing his best to wring out his shirt while it was still on him as McCree left common decency at home and removed the article of clothing and squeezed as much liquid from it as possible. His Facebook pictures didn’t lie, he was absolutely chiselled. Hanzo had only snuck a glace but it was enough. With his entire being saturated, he removed his hair from the low ponytail he kept it in, twisting the ebony in attempt to rid it of some moisture before deciding he was going to have to remain wet until he got home. Hanzo pat down his pants pockets, pulling out his phone. It was waterproof so he didn’t have any issues, he was just making sure before peering over to McCree, the man’s eyes widening in realisation.  
  
“Aw damn.”  
  
Hanzo bit his lip to fight back a smile. “Yours isn’t waterproof?”  
  
“Naw, Goddam.” He fished it out of his pocket and attempted to unlock it. Nothing. Hanzo wanted to feel bad but McCree didn’t look displeased and honestly, Hanzo had had too much fun.  
  
“I’ll pay for the repairs.”  
  
“I can’t make y’do t-“  
  
“I pushed you in the pool I’ll pay.”  
  
“Shimada c’mon I can’t-“  
  
The Samoyed barrelled into McCree, tumbled, and ended up in the pool. The poor dog wailed, not favouring the cold water in the late hours of the night. McCree crouched, hushing the animal but it refused to stop and after a few seconds of desperate cries the house’s lights turned on, visible from the pool’s position that was closer to the main property.  
  
“Shit.”  
  
“McCree.”  
  
“I can’t tell the dog t’stop barkin’!”  
  
Hanzo swore in Japanese, clicking his tongue in frustration.  
  
“What do we do?”  
  
“Run?”  
  
And run they did, sprinting off the property. It was the most inelegant moment of Hanzo’s life, panicked and haphazard, McCree throwing his Stetson at the shorter man as he tugged on his shirt mid run. Hanzo had crammed it back onto the other man’s head when he was dressed in his still soaked shirt. They were both gasping for air when they reached the gates, McCree securing it after they made their way out and they continued with their escape. Police sirens could be heard in the distance as they began to slow and the two men picked up their pace immediately, the two of them no longer paying attention to their surroundings and McCree managed to catch one of his boots on a tree root, toppling over, hands clipping Hanzo’s shoes and had him collapsing in tow. Silence followed, heavy breathing the only thing breaking in the air as the two men’s minds caught up to their bodies after the fall. Hanzo then realised where he was, on the ground, covered in dirt and leaves and was still soaked to the bone but the stars shone overhead and he could hear McCree’s sharp intakes of air somewhere near his feet. The sirens continued, albeit distant, and he swore if he listened close enough he could hear the muted sounds of a dog barking. It dawned on him that this was the most ludicrous thing he’d done in his life to date and it made react in a way he didn’t expect. He laughed. It was loud and unashamed, open and unhidden. He simply laughed with all of his heart and even as his lungs _burned_ from overuse he continued. Because he felt so _alive_ and it was all so spectacularly ridiculous but he _loved_ it.  
  
McCree had joined in, both of them expressing the joy of the moment, embracing the adrenaline rush and basking in it. The night was cooling, the water was still present in their attire and they should be freezing but Hanzo had never felt so warm. Jesse McCree was an anomaly, fluctuating between good and bad but there was something always present. His smile and laughter could brighten Hanzo’s day or night instantly, even if he didn’t want it to. And now was no exception as he sat up to look at the other man, the cowboy still sprawled out on his back, grinning up at the sky like it was the most natural thing for him to do.  
  
They returned to the Reyes-Morrison back porch around half past 11, McCree using Hanzo’s phone to message Mr. Reyes that they were in a desperate need of towels. They hosed themselves down to remove the dirt that accumulated from the fall but they were back to square one, completely drenched. McCree’s father came out holding 2 towels and looking completely baffled.  
  
“I won’t ask.”  
  
McCree took the towels, handing one to Hanzo. “Thanks Pa.”  
  
Mr. Reyes nodded, looked Hanzo over with confusion in his eyes before walking back inside. He paused inside the doorway, peering over his shoulder. “Don’t come in until you’re both completely dry and leave your shoes outside. Monsters Inc is playing.” He closed the door and disappeared around the corner. Hanzo wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or mortified as he pressed his face into his towel.  
  
“Oh God.”  
  
McCree laughed mid rubbing his hair with the towel. “Don’t worry, he won’t say anything if I ask him not to. Well he’ll tell Papa number 2.”  
  
Hanzo repeated, “Oh God.” It only made McCree laugh harder.  
  
After scrubbing intently at themselves they sat on the backyard chairs, air drying whatever was left that the towels couldn’t remove. They lingered in a comfortable silence and Hanzo was thankful for it. He allowed himself to rest, relax and simply enjoy being in someone else’s company, McCree’s company.  
  
But after a moment, the man looked over, smile on his face. “Thanks f’comin’ with me, even if it wasn’t as great as I thought it’d be.”  
  
“I’m a criminal now.” That was true if he removed the ‘now’ in the sentence.  
  
“Hey we didn’t get caught.” Hanzo snorted as McCree’s expression warped into a grin. “Anyways, here,” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a very sad looking bunch of hyacinth blossoms, the flowering plant one of the ones they’d seen in the garden, and held it out to Hanzo, “t’remember the adventure.”  
  
“They’re crushed and wet.”  
  
“It’s the thought that counts, right?”  
  
Hanzo took the flowers, looking at the array of messy blue petals and let himself smile.  
  
“I suppose so.”  


* * *

  
  
Genji had grilled him about why he was still a little damp and where he’d gotten a crushed bunch of hyacinths when they decided to head home at 2 in the morning. He didn’t have much of an answer, just that McCree was a bad influence and he watched something flash over Genji’s expression that he couldn’t decipher. Was he hurt that Hanzo had chosen to spend time with the cowboy? He was still getting over the man, right? But then he smiled and it was natural, surprisingly, and any sense of guilt slowly subsided. Genji had told him to be careful the next time he decided to do something stupid together with McCree which Hanzo adamantly denied would ever happen but they both knew McCree would drag him along for something entirely inappropriate eventually.  
  
He’d paid for a replacement for McCree’s phone as an apology for wrecking it after his childish push into the pool and several days later he received a text from an unknown number but from the conversation chain asking for towels it was obvious it was Mr. Reyes. He stated he’d be keeping Hanzo’s number in case he needed to grab the older brother if Genji decided to do something that threatened his safety. Hanzo couldn’t deny the man and saved the bartender’s number into his phone as well. He was eventually given Mr. Morrison’s as well, just in case he was the one watching Genji for the evening. Since when had his little brother become another one of their children?  
  
It didn’t help that it took almost no time to receive a message when Genji decided doing a handstand on the glass coffee table of the Reyes-Morrison house was a great idea. A stressed Mr. Morrison sent an image of the action with the message attached, “The table is replaceable but your brother isn’t. I might need help; the other kids are encouraging him.” Hanzo replied, stating he was on his way as he packed up his laptop and made his way over, seeing Mr. Morrison with a cup full of shaking coffee and Lucio and Hana accompanying Genji on the table, all upside down. Lucio’s form was honestly admirable but that did not change the strain they were putting on the piece of furniture and Hanzo had no choice but to step in because Genji was not listening to Mr. Morrison and the others were only gaining more power from his lack of respect.  
  
“Genji you’re 23. Stop acting like you’re 10 and get down.”  
  
“Brother!” The shock had him tipping from his handstand, Mr. Morrison dropping his cup and catching the younger man. Hanzo watched the liquid stain the plush white rug underneath it and cringed. Dissolving the situation was easier with Genji under control, Lucio and Hana were willing to listen then. Hanzo had asked if Genji was always like this and Morrison admitted to him being rather chaotic but it had dipped recently. To an almost concerning level in fact; but ever since Hanzo had become a familiar face his energy had escalated to new heights. The two younger members currently in the house were thriving off of it in consequence. Mr. Morrison did mention feeling more exhausted because of it but seeing Genji happier than he had been in months was worth it considering it was lifting the spirits of the rest of the group. Hanzo decided it wouldn’t hurt to stay with the older man as the other three were roped into a session of Mario Kart courtesy of Hana. Hanzo continued with what work he’d stopped when he’d come to restrain Genji and Mr. Morrison went back to his word jumbles after attempting to purge the carpet, even if nothing really worked. Hanzo and Genji left after Mr. Reyes and his two children returned from their shift at the bar, which was an ungodly hour of the morning so the brothers chauffeured Lucio and Hana home. McCree had winked in his direction as he said goodbye and Hanzo had given him the biggest eyeroll he could manage. The cowboy had laughed, Sombra whistling behind him. It was odd, having a place to belong. It was happening without him noticing, that he was now extremely welcome in the group. It was further solidified as Lucio tapped his window as he climbed out of Hanzo’s prized Jag. Hanzo rolled down the window, raising a brow before the young man smiled big and wide, “Thanks Mr. Hanzo, sorry Jack had you come over the situation was under control but you know guys in their 40s worrying about everything. You’re pretty cool though.” Hanzo knew he looked shocked by the way Lucio laughed after he didn’t receive a response. He waved him off and followed up with a “Goodnight!” before rollerblading into the massive building that a man on the brink of adulthood should not be able to afford. Genji leaned over and whispered,  
  
“You’ve earnt his approval.”  
  
“Genji _please_.”  
  
“You’re a cool dad now.”  
  
“I am _not_ a dad.”  
  
“Uh, you were sitting quietly with Jack and Jack is the biggest dad of them all. So yeah, that puts you at dad level.”  
  
Hanzo kicked his car’s engine back to life and sped off to block out the sound of Genji’s teasing voice. He was losing control of his life and he wasn’t sure if he minded anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cowman is probably one of my favourite insults in the world 
> 
> also please pray for dad hanzo he is in for a world of mcsuffering
> 
> also sorry for any errors i didn't read this one over as much as the others @_@


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god uni is so bad rn i die sorry for taking so long to update @_@ update speeds might decrease a considerable amount for the time being apologies in advance!  
> this chapter is huge though sO... SORT oF... makes up for iT??  
> the first section of this chapter is in Jesse's POV. I didn't want much of this fic to be from his POV but i thought i'd add a little in :3c  
> also Hanzo is referred to as Shimada for a lot of this bc.... Jesse POV..... im sorry it might be a little awkward it feels awkward to me lmaodsfijdg
> 
> otherwise that's it, hope you all enjoy the chapter!!

Jesse McCree had no intention of being ridiculously attracted to Genji’s older brother but here he was, experiencing exactly that. His first encounter had been the first foot in the door before he’d barrelled his way into infatuation. Hanzo Shimada had opened the door in the early hours of the morning, wrapped in a dressing grown and looking all worlds of irritated. But Jesse couldn’t help but focus on the long ebony strands framing his face, bed hair loose and piling over his shoulders in a cascade of gorgeous disarray and Jesse had felt his chest tighten, though that might have just been Genji grappling at the front of his shirt for support.  
  
Nonetheless the image of the disgruntled man hadn’t left his mind yet and seeing him for a second time only made another wave of absolute enchantment break against him and it shook Jesse to his core. Instead of the unexpected intruding intimacy of seeing the older Shimada after he’d just been woken, Jesse was greeted by a gentleman, hair combed back save a few strands that bordered his elegant features. His shoulders adorned by a blazer, even if he was seated at a bar, his head held high and posture the picture of perfection. A slim waist narrowed his figure, his back curving in a minute arch as his chest was pressed outward, shoulders rolled back and he’d radiated elegance. Everything about the man was pristine and Jesse knew he was miles out of his league but that didn’t stop him from pining even with his family’s mortifying encouragement and endless teasing. They knew him too well because they’d picked up on it the moment he mentioned how stunning the older Shimada was.  
  
Because he’d called Hanzo Shimada beautiful; because Hanzo Shimada _was_ beautiful. He was a conjuration that had Jesse bewitched. He never used the word ‘beautiful’ to describe men, it never felt right. Striking? Sure. Handsome? Almost all the time. He’d even called Genji as such, boyishly handsome to be exact, accompanied by an allusive charm that had Jesse flirting back when the younger man had stumbled into their bar looking for company. But _Hanzo Shimada_ , he was something else. Jesse was rarely left speechless but he’d barely managed to utter a word when he’d seen him for the first time and was forced to send him _dog vines_ because he wasn’t sure how to approach conversation even after having met him properly. It’d somehow worked though considering he had managed to worm his way into an area he considered friendship. And then their night out together, that had been a benevolent gift from above because Jesse did _not_ expect the straight laced man to go along with his antics.  
  
The night had been so cold but Jesse had felt so incredibly warm. He was in so deep; too deep. He was _so_ screwed.  
  
Sombra refused to shut up about it too as Jesse wiped down the bar counter after the rush of customers dwindled and the night aged to a point of retirement. Though, she settled quick considering she was in her own predicament, trying to woo some cute architect with a serious cold side who didn’t socialise much as she preferred professional settings. Sounded like the older Shimada and her would get along well. Jesse needed to stop thinking about him.  
  
Sombra threw her hands up, frustration on her features as she exhaled sharply out of her nose. “Ay Dios mío, my skills have weakened if I can’t even sweet talk one woman into trusting me.”  
  
“Into ruinin’ her livelihood and the company she’s gone invested everythin’ in?”  
  
“Come on Jesse don’t put it like that.”  
  
“S’truth hermanita.” Sombra rolled her eyes, looking away.  
  
“Yeah well I’m doing this for all-“  
  
Gabe dropped a glass on the counter in front of Sombra abruptly with a loud ‘thud’, shocking the girl out of her sentence, a stern expression on his face as he looked between the two siblings. “Stop chatting, mijo get your ass back into gear, the dish washer is waiting for the next load.”  
  
Jesse groaned, making his way over to the group of upside down stacked glasses, pushing the tray into the machine as Sombra continued grumbling at her laptop. Gabe followed, eyeing down his son’s back as he leaned against the counter, “How’s mission Shimada anyway?”  
  
“Not you too Pa.”  
  
Gabe smirked, Jesse couldn’t see it but he could feel his father’s lips curl upward without having to check. “Just checking in. No progress since pulling him into the Zimmerman family’s pool?”  
  
Jesse pressed a hand to his forehead, biting back another sound of exasperation. “Naw.”  
  
“Pity.”  
  
“Why do y’all even care about this?”  
  
“You know Jesse. Sure it started as fun but things are getting serious now and having you on the inside-“  
  
“I can’t do that.”  
  
“ _Mijo_.”  
  
“No means no.” Jesse peered over his shoulder, his usual cheery disposition evaporating as he levelled his gaze with his father. The entire Reyes-Morrison household suddenly had apprehensions after finding out the Shimadas were involved with Vishkar but Jesse didn’t want to be involved. If that meant living in ignorance, so be it. He could pay for his stupidity later, it was how he normally handled his life anyway. Gabe was permitting Jesse to talk to the older Shimada in a way that felt far too often, even during shifts, because he was sure Shimada would confide in him if there was something terrible going on behind closed doors; so that the family could be confronted. It was manipulative as hell and made Jesse sick to his stomach when he thought about it but he reminded himself his interests came from an earnest place. Well, mildly; he was interested in Shimada’s looks initially but the man as an entirety was growing on him too. He wondered occasionally, what the other man’s mark might be, curious to know if it aligned with his. Not that it meant much, a lot of words made coherent sentences with the word ‘Go’. Jesse’s hopes were low when it came to matching soulmate marks just by looking at them, it’s why he rarely asked about them. He hoped if he ran into his soulmate and muttered the words in a way that held meaning, his partner would bring it to his attention and Jesse wouldn’t feel like he’d said it in hopes that they somehow allotted together, because if he’d said it from his heart he’d know it meant something then. It was the main issue of having such an ambiguous mark but he didn’t mind it. And though, he was genuinely curious about Shimada’s, he swallowed that curiosity to the best of his ability, it would do him no good knowing.  
  
Gabe had cleared off after Jesse’s shut down, not prepared to tackle his son’s stubborn streak. It was too close to closing anyway, they could head home soon. Sombra was still living with their fathers but Jesse had moved out, enjoying his lonesome but he stayed over occasionally after work, he planned on doing the same today.  
  
Which brought him to another oddity. He was meeting Shimada more and more at the Reyes-Morrison house, the man sometimes sharing a cup of tea with Jack, typing away at his laptop while Genji’s laughter accompanied whoever was still around during the early hours. Last time it had been Fareeha. She seemed glum recently ever since she returned from her trip with her mother. Ms Amari and her daughter didn’t have the best relationship and had decided to return to Egypt on a trip to amend anything that was left but Reinhardt had tagged along and that might have made things awkward. She seemed comfortable with Genji though and her smile widened when seeing Jesse. The cowboy loved Fareeha like he loved Sombra, they were all sisters to him. He’d tried to talk his way into Fareeha’s defences but they were sturdy and she told him nothing, which was disheartening but Jesse understood that she may not be comfortable divulging anything to him face to face. But, he was still going to ask Ang about it later. Still, he was enjoying the small encounters with the Shimada brothers, the two of them greeting him pleasantly before clearing off. Jesse wished he could spend a little more time with them, but they never seemed too eager to stay. The bar family did return home obscenely late though, so it wasn’t as if they’d be able to do much even if they decided to linger. But when they’d arrived back this time, Jesse found himself looking at a very asleep Genji sprawled over the living room couch, a concerned Shimada and indifferent Jack looking him over. Gabe was the first to move, wrapping an arm around his husband’s waist, smirk covering his face.  
  
“Inform me before you adopt another kid would you?”  
  
“This one was forced on me.”  
  
Jack looked over to Shimada, whose brows knitted together, “I do not want you to keep him but I am reluctant to wake him.”  
  
Jesse covered his mouth with a hand to stop himself from laughing loud enough to wake the younger Shimada as he walked in behind his father, Sombra following, snickering a little more openly.  
  
“Yer really soft with him aren’t you?”  
  
Shimada practically snapped to attention as he noticed the siblings’ presence before shrinking back to something a little more casual. His back was still impeccably straight. “That, I cannot argue with.”  
  
“‘S sweet.” Jesse paused, watching Shimada’s face morph into something he couldn’t decipher before continuing, “Y’know the brotherly love thing.”  
  
“Ah,” the other man’s expression only seemed to intensify, “I see. If you find tailing your little brother around for hours trying to make sure he doesn’t seriously hurt himself sweet.”  
  
Jesse snorted, arms crossed over his chest as he made his way over. Sombra had already checked out, waving to the one conscious Shimada and her fathers who were currently assessing the sleeping intruder. He watched Shimada’s shoulders square, as if trying to appear more professional around Jesse and it was peculiar, making the taller man wonder if Shimada felt insecure around him. He hoped not, his one redeeming quality was making people relax, typically after a few drinks though. ‘Y’need help carrying him to the car?” As if Genji wasn’t a grown ass man capable of walking to a car himself.  
  
“Perhaps.” The older Shimada bit at his lip, chewing on it between his teeth and the action drew Jesse’s attention to the man’s mouth. Bad thoughts arose and it took Jesse a good moment to beat them down. “I do not know.”  
  
“He can sleep here too, wouldn’t be the first time.” There was a smile on Jesse’s face but Shimada’s expression seemed to sour.  
  
“I do not want to burden your parents.”  
  
“Wouldn’t be sugar, we’re used to people crashin’ here if it ain’t already obvious.”  
  
“That does not change how I feel.” God he was stubborn. God it was _cute_.  
  
“‘Lright, y’can accompany me again as payment then.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Let’s pull another runner tonight.”  
  
“You can’t be serious.” Shimada looked the opposite of amused this time. Which Jesse expected considering it was 1am on a Thursday night. He had meant it as a joke though, not entirely sure where they’d go on a weekday, anything worth doing closed and preparing for the hustle and bustle of the weekend. But Jesse wasn’t good at stopping while he was ahead.  
  
“Nah. Though I’d be a liar if I said I wouldn’t mind it.” He leaned in, tipping his hat back on his head to show off more of his signature grin as the other man leaned back, as if sensing the mischief already. “Considerin’ how much fun we had last time.”  
  
“That would not be repaying your parents.”  
  
“They’re happy if I’m happy.”  
  
“You’re insufferable.” Jesse laughed, standing back to his full height which made Shimada relax again. There was confliction in his eyes and the cowboy had to admit to being shocked, that is if the other man was actually considering his offer. He glanced over his shoulder, Gabe had disappeared, probably to fix himself with something to drink before he went to sleep while Jack made his way to their linen closet to look for a spare blanket for Genji. Jesse took the moment, hand dropping on the other man’s shoulder as his eyes glinted with promise. If he’d tempted Shimada he’d make him follow through, work be damned the next day.  
  
“But I know how t’have a good time. C’mon Shimada, let go and live a little.” The man stiffened under his touch, almost gaping at him as he took in Jesse’s words. It was momentary before he looked down, his voice so soft Jesse could barely hear anything that’d left his mouth.  
  
“Sorry pardner, run that by me again?”  
  
“Let us go.”  
  
It was all Jesse needed, grin splitting across as his face as he made a beeline for the sliding doors that lead into the backyard, the two men climbing his parents’ back fence again.  


* * *

  
  
He dragged Shimada to an old fashioned drive in movie without them actually driving in, instead viewing the film from the rooftop of a nearby factory. Jesse had watched in awe as the other man had managed to climb a multilevel building with ease, standing on top of it without having broken a sweat. Jesse followed, lacking all the finesse the other man had presented; but he made it to the top. They tuned into the station the sound was being broadcasted to on Jesse’s phone. The screening was of ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’ which had Jesse on the receiving end of a very accusatory look as if he’d somehow managed to plan it all out. How would he have managed a drive in screening of a classic western at 1:30 in the morning was beyond him but if it were true he’d be adamant on earning a medal for the achievement. Nonetheless they settled, side by side, watching Blondie amble around with a cigar in his mouth, poncho and wide brim adorning his person. Shimada looked exhausted as Jesse shifted his Stetson on his head which only made things more hilarious. They chatted in between the extended close ups, Shimada mocking the over dramatic flair of it all, his critiques based solely on how it much time it consumed. Jesse only stated it brought more tension to the scene, Shimada rolled his eyes in response.  
  
Reaching the end of the film, Jesse noticed the older Shimada brother slowly tipping, eyes fluttering ever so slightly. He continued to glance over, instead of watching the film, focused on the other man fighting a losing battle. It was endearing as Shimada forced to keep himself awake but it was obvious the man was working himself silly, eyebags below his eyes as he bit back yawn after yawn. He eventually gave, willingly or not, dropping against Jesse’s shoulder softly and definitely asleep. Jesse let him rest, shuffling a little closer to make things easier for the other man. As time continued he eventually felt the shorter man tremor, the wind having picked up from its previous lull and Jesse could only assume it was a reaction to the cold. Shifting Shimada’s head from his shoulder to his thigh, Jesse removed his jacket, biting back his own reaction to the chill and draped it over the sleeping man, tucking him in the best he could on a building’s roof with a leg as a pillow. But Shimada seemed to curl in on himself, faux leather tugged close to his chest and Jesse felt his own constrict. He let himself gaze at the other man for a moment, eyes crinkling at their edges as he admired the sight that was a tame Shimada with a smile. He was oblivious to the world around him and that meant he no longer cared about his outward appearance. It was incredibly endearing and it took Jesse a lot of strength to remove his eyes from the sleeping man so that he could focus on the movie again.  
  
He ran into a predicament when the film ended though, the time on his phone showing him 2:30 now and a peaceful Shimada resting practically in his lap. He understood how the older Shimada felt now, about not wanting to wake Genji. He was completely relaxed, no wrinkle to his brows, just sombre sleep that made him appear so much more youthful than what Jesse was used to seeing. Shimada came off as the kind of man who was forced to grow up far too quickly and it showed in how he presented himself. Formal, attentive and strict. It was gorgeous, sure, but seeing him suddenly so docile had Jesse’s heart swaying in ways he wasn’t aware it could. He could tell it was bad as he found himself metaphorically losing his footing and falling for Shimada in a rapid fashion. He felt like he was a teenager again, giddy with an intense interest of pure affection, like falling in love for the first time all over again with all the whirlwind of emotions, ones that included the possible repercussions if his feelings weren’t reciprocated. His heart thrummed with pain, hating the thought, and he scolded himself for feeling so childish. But a feeling arose that Jesse hadn’t experienced in so long, that familiar feeling of undeniable excitement of ‘what if this person is the one, my one?’ And what if Shimada was? He’d be the luckiest man in the world, that’s what. Jesse was getting ahead of himself but it was easy to when they were encompassed by the night, the stars their only company as Shimada took a leisurely nap against him. What more could Jesse ask for in a moment like this? Nothing. He was sated in a way he could never have imagined. Something so simplistic had him burning with such a strong level of contentment and as pathetic as it was, he couldn’t help but relish it. He wasn’t going to forget this moment, a memory he would cherish dearly for an eternity and then some. He was broken out of his stupor after the chime of his phone ruined the ambient silence. He answered it as quickly as possible so that it would not wake his company but the damage had been done, the other man stirring at his side as Jesse softly cursed out Gabe for ‘totally ruining his evening out’ in Spanish. Gabe laughed, deep and pleased but asked Jesse to return in one piece, and at least tell him when he was going to act like a 12 year old before promptly hanging up so Jesse couldn’t fit in a retort. He had more pressing issues to attend to though, Shimada propping himself up on one arm, his free hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He seemed dazed, adorably so, as he peered up through dark lashes at a grinning Jesse, the cowboy unable to restrain the expression as Shimada slowly processed his surroundings.  
  
He immediately snapped back up into a seated position, shock on his features, but Jesse’s jacket still around his shoulders. “I-“ he cleared his throat, “my apologies.”  
  
“S’alright, y’seem like y’needed the nap anyways.”  
  
Shimada hummed, tugging the makeshift blanket closer before realising what he was doing, pulling it further down his shoulder to examine it before his eyes widened further and removed it from his back, pressing the article of clothing towards Jesse. “No, you should have woken me.”  
  
“A simple thank’ya would suffice darlin’.” He took the jacket back anyway.  
  
Shimada paused, frozen in what seemed like shock before averting his gaze to anywhere that wasn’t Jesse. The cowboy couldn’t figure out if he was ashamed or just bashful. But something followed, his voice as soft as it had been before they’d run off into the night, “Thank you, McCree.”  
  
The gentle baritone wrapped around him in a way that had Jesse’s head swinging, the simple sentence strung with so much delicacy and sincerity. He still refused to meet Jesse’s gaze but Shimada had said his name in a way that felt like silk, the attention to detail like intricate embroidery reflecting the elegant fragility in his words. It had taken him time to say it, a blatant admittance of reluctance, but he’d said it despite that desire not to, and it had rolled off his tongue with saccharine and _God_ if Jesse wasn’t screwed before he was definitely screwed now.  
  
They took their time scrambling off the roof, Jesse almost falling a few times as Shimada watched, unimpressed. He was fully awake now and judgemental again, assessing the cowboy’s sad attempt at scaling down walls. What did Shimada do to get that good at climbing? What was he, some sort of ninja or something? Grounding his thoughts again as his feet hit pavement, he watched his company tilt his head in the direction they were to head in, signalling for Jesse to lead the way. He did, their walk back to the Reyes-Morrison property mainly silent but comfortable. It was obvious that Shimada was entirely exhausted and Jesse was feeling sleep creeping over him too. As much as he didn’t want the night to end, he did know the other man would be waking up early tomorrow to head into work. So, when they’d reached the house, Jesse was stern on making Shimada stay the night, even offering the man his bed, Jesse stating he would take the floor beside Genji. Shimada refused outright, comfortable with sleeping beside his brother but Jesse had all but lifted the shorter man over his shoulder, securing him there with an arm as he navigated his way to his old room. Shimada yelped in shock before covering his mouth with a hand, not wanting to wake anyone up but he continued to hiss protests in quiet whispers which made them the opposite of threatening as Jesse dumped him on his bed with a laugh. The other man peered up, his expression shocked for the umpteenth time that evening as he moved to sit up.  
  
Jesse had to look away, he was not in the right mindset to be looking at Shimada sprawled out on a bed underneath him even if he was standing at the foot of it. But he’d caught a glance, dark strands fanning out like a halo over rich red sheets and slightly parted lips with dark eyes fixated on Jesse accompanied by an intensity that made his breath catch. So he did what he felt was his best option, he made his way to the door without looking back, hat removed and in his hand as he gave the other man a wave, “Goodnight, Hanzo.”  
  
He heard the other man grumble in response but there was no protest against using his first name. Jesse felt a swirl of elation rush through him as he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. 

* * *

  
  
Hanzo woke to sweet scents of cinnamon and spice mixed with a softer undertone of smoke and whisky. He let his eyes flutter open and then close again, allowing himself to curl further into the sheets wrapped around him, perfectly content. It felt cosy, the warmth associated with home even if it was entirely foreign to the incense sticks and constant smell of jasmine and green tea he was used to. _That he was used to_.  
  
He shot up in the bed, immediately upright and surrounded by cushions and blankets he had never seen before in his life, all mixtures of burgundy and a deep crimson, everything entirely more plush than the stiff bedding he’d chosen, supposedly remedying back pain but right now he felt like he was on a cloud and had clearly made a mistake in choosing his sleeping options. That was beside the point as he peered around, trying to ground himself, until flashbacks of last night swam through his mind, of the late night adventure with the grinning cowboy. He was sleeping in McCree’s bed. _He liked sleeping in McCree’s bed_. The thought was enough to have him ejecting himself from the sheets almost immediately, lingering for a moment just to enjoy the heat a little longer. He’d removed half of his clothes, not prepared to wrinkle his button down and suit jacket that was reserved for work but he was definitely in need of ironed slacks. Slipping on his shirt, he hung his jacket from his arm which bent at the elbow and stepped into his shoes. How westerners managed to keep their shoes on in their houses was beyond him, he felt incredibly uncomfortable parading around in them on carpeted floors but after having been ceremoniously dropped into the room with little to no other options besides sleeping there, he didn’t have much of a choice in removing them where he wanted to. Manoeuvring to the bedroom door, he paused, looking back over his shoulder and examined the bed. He took the extra few minutes to make it, as he had slept in it, and he _adamantly_ did not enjoy the wafting scents that lingered in the sheets as he set them back in place. He then took a moment to look himself over in a mirror hanging from McCree’s closet door, securing his hair back up into place with a ribbon before exiting the room.  
  
As he emerged he was greeted with a very sleepy Genji yawning into a palm, the other securing a cup of what looked like coffee, the younger boy greeting him between his large exhale. “Did you sleep well brother?”  
  
“I would have preferred sleeping at home.”  
  
Genji smirked in response, “Could’ve woken me up and we’d be in our kitchen right now.”  
  
Hanzo clicked his tongue, averting his gaze. “Enough of that.”  
  
Genji only sidled up closer, elbowing his older brother, amusement in his gaze. “That was Jesse’s room you walked out of.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Jesse’s room.” He wiggled his eyebrows for extra effect.  
  
“And as far as I’m aware you’re the one who is smitte-“ Genji forced a gulp of extremely sweet coffee into his mouth, silencing him.  
  
“Brother.” A snipped response. Hanzo returned with an unamused stare.  
  
“You started it.”    
  
Genji rolled his eyes, gesturing dramatically at Hanzo with both his hand and the mug he was grasping. “But you walked out of his room. How suspicious is that?”  
  
“He refused to let me sleep beside you, I resisted as much as I could.”  
  
Genji looked unconvinced. “Right. Anyway, breakfast is ready à la Gabriel.” His smile returned to him with ease, as if dropping the subject was all he could do. “That means spicy bacon and eggs.” Hanzo couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. He favoured spice and he was very interested in a breakfast that included it.  
  
Sitting at the dining room table being served food in a foreign house was interesting and Hanzo started off feeling relatively uncomfortable as everyone slipped into a familiar routine that even Genji somehow belonged to. Mr. Reyes and Mr. Morrison brought out plates with food, the blond of the pair also carrying orange juice. Ms Amari and Mr. Wilhelm stopped by, opening the door without having to knock. Perhaps they possessed a key. Ms Amari’s daughter, Fareeha Amari, had followed, taking no time to settle beside Sombra and dropping into easy conversation, her mother and partner laughing with the husbands. Mr. Reyes warned Mr. Wilhelm he’d used extra chili today and Mr. Morrison seemed to look nervous hearing the news, it made his husband snort into his glass of water. Genji dropped down beside the younger women, talking animatedly with his hands and said something that made Sombra laugh rather loudly. Hanzo secured his position to the side, trying to busy himself with plating out what he could for himself and his brother after Mr. Reyes insisted people start eating. He was disrupted by a large hand secured itself onto his shoulder, much like last night, and he looked over, noting a drowsy cowboy, even more ungroomed than usual with a dopey smile splayed across his face. “Mornin’, smells like Gabe cooked up a storm.”  
  
“You can tell who has done the cooking from the smell?” An unnecessary question that Hanzo did not need to ask because he should not be interested in the answer but McCree was all too eager to please.  
  
“Jack can’t use spices. Only uses salt, lemon if he’s feeling generous.”  
  
“Lemon is not a spice.”  
  
“Can’t say I’d count salt as one either, pardner.” Hanzo muffled a sound of amusement into a loose fist as he averted his gaze. He seated himself and McCree took the chair beside him, settling down with a large serving, which seemed appropriate for a man his size as Hanzo pushed Genji’s plate over to him while he continued his conversation. McCree gave out his ‘howdy’ and ‘hello’s to everyone before shovelling food into his mouth, the younger Amari scrunching up her face in what Hanzo assumed was disgust until she challenged McCree to see who could eat the most. McCree seemed to be more than interested, asking Hanzo for a kiss for good luck and received a glare in return. He pressed a hand over his chest, the absence of his hat in the earlier hours of the morning reducing the sincerity of his action as Hanzo looked away, pulling out his phone to distract himself with emails.  
  
It was becoming increasingly difficult all of a sudden as it began to dawn on Hanzo, McCree was probably flirting with him. He’d assumed it was playful persistence in trying to open the older Shimada up as Hanzo was not as sociable as Genji but that comment had just about solidified Hanzo’s suspicions and it was making him unbearably uncomfortable. Genji liked McCree, McCree had asked if Genji liked him, Hanzo had denied that Genji liked McCree, Hanzo liked- _did he like McCree?_ The thought sent him into a cold sweat. Impossible. He was charming, he was attractive, he had the body of Michelangelo’s David but he was _not_ Hanzo’s kind of guy. Hanzo refused to believe he had a type but if he had to label what he was interested in it would be someone well-spoken and formally presenting. A strong base in etiquette and pristine in every avenue of their lives. Someone that would fit into his life appropriately, not a man who accepts a bacon consuming contest; not _McCree._  
  
A part of him hoped the cowboy would realise that on his own, so that Hanzo wouldn’t be forced to turn him down if he made his interests explicitly clear. But then again he could be getting ahead of himself. Glancing over at the man who seemed to be struggling to maintain the same pace as his rival, Hanzo observed the man dressed in a lazy manner, a tight v neck stretching across his chest, sculpted arms peering out from the edges of the sleeves, biceps bulging with each rapid arm movement to ingest more meat. From his seated position, the back of his shirt rose up, revealing a sliver of skin above his low hanging sweats, the pants loose and not revealing much of the other man’s legs but the toned thighs were underneath the cloth, Hanzo had seen them before. Without his hat on or near him, no spurs or ridiculous plaid and belt buckle, he looked like any other man Hanzo could have crossed by thousands of times over. And yet there was still a charm to him, the mop of hair atop his head a mess of chestnut, sunlight streaming in to highlight the edges, giving the strands a subtle glow. His eyes gleamed caramel with the sun and his smile was still unbearably infectious. McCree demanded attention, that was Hanzo’s conclusion. He had a mild interest, the kind you get when you encounter something unusually different and have a necessity to examine it further. Checking his phone again to see the time, Hanzo noted it was already past the time he needed to leave to be on time for work. He found he didn’t care so much for punctuality, just this once, and asked Genji if he needed a lift home or to his own job, though he knew his brother went in a couple of hours after he did, considering the majority of his classes were held during after school hours. After receiving a ‘No thanks.’ Hanzo excused himself from the table, washed his dishes and then thanked both Mr. Reyes and Mr. Morrison for their hospitality. With a bow of his head and a goodbye to everyone, he moved to leave, desperate to get home quickly to change into slacks he hadn’t slept in before McCree made his way to the door to see him off.  
  
“Thanks for comin’ last night,” he rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish, “again.” Hanzo hummed in response, continuing with his leave. McCree seemed to wilt, if only slightly. “Y’fun to be around, ‘preciate the time y’spend with me.”  
  
“As do I.” McCree lit up brighter than the sun on an early Summer day and it made Hanzo wonder how the man managed to inject so much energy into his expressions. “And thank you for allowing me to use your room last night.”  
  
The man laughed, low and from his chest, “No problem.” Hanzo stepped out past the threshold, pace deliberately slow as he sensed the man preparing to speak more, his mouth never did seem to stop. “And uh, have a good day,” there was another pause, this time holding more uncertainty. Hanzo looked over, the cowboy leaning against the door frame, one arm propped up against the wood. His shirt crawled up a minimal amount in consequence, revealing the skin of his abdomen, the beginnings of a sinful trail of hair climbing below grey sweats and Hanzo’s breath caught in a way that had his head screaming betrayal at his libido before the man finally muttered the last word he’d struggled to release. “Hanzo.”  
  
_His given name_. McCree had said it last night and Hanzo was too shocked to respond properly. That southern drawl rolled it out with such little finesse, thick tongue mumbling the pronunciation as the sounds slurred in comparison to the punctuated syllables of a native Japanese accent. But Hanzo slurred with it, not hating how it sounded as the other man spoke it and just like the night before he accepted it. He was getting too late to fight the other man on how to address him anyway.  
  
“You too McCree.”  
  
And with that he left, moving to his car with an increased pace and driving off with a little more speed than necessary. He had things to work on and allowing his mind to linger on simplicities wouldn’t get him anywhere. He was going to have his head talked off by his father when he arrived to work late anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translations -  
> \- Ay Dios mío - oh my god  
> \- Hermanita - "a variant of sister, usually used for a younger sister, or if you're teasing." (provided by CookieCorners because I wasn't sure how to put it into words loldgdf)  
> \- Mijo - my son


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guess who neglected their final essay for their uni semester to write this chapter  
> thats right, i did!!  
> i have no time management skills i either get things done in 2 seconds or 2 years loldsfoisdf  
> i just wanted to drop this chapter before i seriously start studying for exams (:
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys and thank you for all the comments and kudos it means so much to me <3

Hanzo’s father had lectured him for a solid 20 minutes before weaselling out why Hanzo had come in looking as exhausted as he did despite his impromptu sleep in. He’d snapped back, as inappropriate as it was, that he’d been out enjoying himself which had his father’s lips drawing into a stern line. He’d been dismissed shortly after but the disappointment in his father’s eyes was obvious; surprisingly, Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to care. That, in itself, was concerning but the concern was brushed away as well and he suddenly realised why Genji enjoyed being a ‘problem child’ so much, it was far easier than what he’d been subjecting to himself to for so long. Work had been as long as usual afterwards, though an irregularity had begun in which Lucio and Hana were more invested in communicating with him recently, which was alright he supposed but one thing that was completely _not_ alright was the adoption of the term of ‘cool dad’. Genji must have spread it around, he did know there was a Snapchat of him circling that had him seated on the couch with Jack, helping the man with some word jumbles. That must have contributed to it, which was honestly mortifying. But other than that, everything remained stable, which Hanzo was thankful for. Falling back into his usual routine, his father subsided with his criticisms and he returned to being the perfect son save his inability to agree to the arranged marriage looming over his head.  
  
But he began to notice something as weeks progressed and after a month and a half, Hanzo had to note, Genji was leaving the house more often for extremely long periods, which wasn’t necessarily strange on its own, but it was strange when none of the usual group from The Flashbang knew where he was going. That drew a multitude of questions from the older Shimada, hoping his brother hadn’t resumed previous bed jumping and couch surfing habits as a form of escapism but Hanzo had a reasonable reason to doubt it on the grounds that, when he was home, Genji was incredibly happy. It was the main reason why Hanzo didn’t question him on the matter and let his brother float around as he wished. He was attending his job, he was cleaning the usual amounts he did around the house and sometimes he even woke up before Hanzo to prepare rice and fry eggs for breakfast. So, if anything, he was more together than usual, and it was refreshing. Hanzo was still curious but he waited for his brother to reveal what he wanted to with time, it was easier than asking him and listening to him talk for the next 2 hours about whatever positive influence had entered his life anyway. But what Hanzo didn’t expect was opening the door to Genji brewing tea for an unfamiliar guest seated in their living room, the foreign man peering over at Hanzo as he entered the common area. The man nodded his head, a serene sort of expression on his face, and the voice that left him it was quite possibly the most relaxing noise Hanzo had ever heard a human make.  
  
“Good evening.”  
  
Hanzo cleared his throat, clearly stunned. “Hello.”  
  
Genji piped up, moving to his brother and ushering him in further into the room. “Brother welcome home. I want you to meet my new friend, Zenyatta.”  
  
Ah, Hanzo had an idea as to why Genji’s mood had jumped recently now. He observed the man seated on their sofa, his posture admirable but not as stiff as how Genji would typically tell Hanzo he was sitting. His eyes were gentle as was his presence, donned in… _monk clothing?_ That was different. He completed the entire look with a shaved head and large beads hanging from his neck and it was obvious he had some spiritual presence about him. The smile he shone the older Shimada as he looked him over was kind, no judgment behind the expression and he exuded an undeniable sense of tranquillity. _Tranquility_ … Genji’s words… He did _not_ just grab a monk of the streets in hopes he’d be his soulmate, did he?  
  
“Nice to meet you.”  
  
“The pleasure is mine.”  
  
Zenyatta’s expression remained serene as he took a sip from the tea Genji offered him. Hanzo levelled him with a stern glare. Without removing his gaze from his brother, he addressed a question to their guest. “May I borrow my brother for a moment?”  
  
“Feel free.”  
  
A man of few words, clearly. Nonetheless, Hanzo took Genji’s wrist in his hand after receiving permission from the monk? And pulled him into the adjacent rec room, guiding him around their pool table to gather as much distance from Genji’s company as possible, even if their entire conversation would continue in Japanese.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“A monk Genji. A. Monk.” His brother had to muffle a sound of amusement into the back of his hand. Hanzo found no humour in the situation but Genji was having the time of his life from the looks of it. “Why are you laughing? I did not expect you to be this childish.”  
  
“No brother you have it wrong, he approached me! I did not actively look out for someone who looks like they use the word ‘tranquillity’ daily.”  
  
Hanzo grunted, looking away from the younger Shimada, lips pursed. “But did you keep him around beca-“  
  
“I _kept him around_ because he helped me, particularly with Jesse. I was apprehensive at first, but he let me be, he let me take my time. I started liking his company and now we’re friends.”  
  
“Friends?”  
  
“For now.”  
  
Hanzo snorted, arms crossed over his chest. “Aren’t monks abstinent?”  
  
“Brother _._ ”  
  
“You are not necessarily a saint.”  
  
“ _Brother no.”_ Genji pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes and proceeded to make a loud humming noise to block out anything Hanzo had to say, which had him laughing quietly into his hand before nudging Genji gently to grab his attention again.  
  
“So this means McCree is no longer an issue?”  
  
Genji’s face twisted, as if hesitating, before taking a deep breath and nodding. It was hard to watch, Hanzo didn’t expect his feelings to subside so quickly but it seemed the younger man was determined. “Yes, I am ready to progress onward.”  
  
Hanzo felt himself smile, a true genuine one from his heart. Knowing Genji was achieving peace was something he found solace in. “I am pleased to hear it.”  
  
“Yeah because the cowboy’s all yours now.” Genji had the biggest shit eating grin on his face that Hanzo had seen since his birth and this time he elbowed his brother a little harder and accompanied it with a glare. If looks could kill, Genji would be on the floor right now.  
  
“That is not the reason I am asking and I am _not_ pursuing him.”  
  
Despite his wince, Genji’s grin did not falter, mussing up his brother’s hair which Hanzo responded to with a growl. “I know, I know. It’s just nice seeing you get along with someone so easily.” Was that the case? He did not make friends easily, sure, but he did not think McCree and he were relatively close. Genji must have noticed Hanzo tense before he had picked up on it himself as he took Hanzo’s arm in his hand and squeezed reassuringly. “Did I upset you?”  
  
Hanzo looked surprised before shaking his head and made his muscles relax. Tension would do nothing to aid him. “No. I am not so delicate.”  
  
“I never said you were-“  
  
“It is alright Genji.”  
  
His little brother sighed before letting go of the topic, though he did not seem at ease. He gave Hanzo’s arm one more squeeze before releasing his grip and allowing a smile to resurface on his features. “If you’re sure.”  
  
“Yes. Now what is a monk doing in LA anyway?”  
  
Genji’s smile morphed into a grin. “Let’s go back and you can ask him personally.”  
  
From the conversation that followed, Hanzo learned a great deal about Zenyatta. He was a travelling monk from Nepal, having left his monastery on request to spread words of acceptance. He was to stay in LA for an indefinite period of time, which was something Genji was more than happy with. He confirmed Genji’s words of their meeting, stating he’d seen the other boy looking relatively down while moving from the dojo he worked at to his bike to drive home and asked him what was wrong. Hanzo hid his amusement behind a hand as Zenyatta told him Genji refused to mumble more than a ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ when they first met and now the younger Shimada did enough talking for the both of them. Genji flushed furiously, asking Zenyatta to ‘stop right there’ but there was no anger in his words, if anything he was the picture of joy, eyes sparkling despite his reddened complexion. Hanzo felt a sudden urge he didn’t expect to ever experience but could suddenly relate to his generation and took a quick image of them side by side. He later sent the image to the group message chat on Facebook, anyone 30 and under dropping responses with several exclamation marks and a few ‘eye’ emoticons. Watching Genji hide himself face down in couch cushions as his phone vibrated relentlessly was absolutely hilarious and Hanzo decided to send a capture of that scene too. Both their phones exploded in another round of notifications, most messages expressing amusement before they slowly calmed. Hanzo looked them over, slowly, eyes landing on McCree’s text box.  
  
“Glad for ya man.”  
  
Hanzo smiled, completely capable of relating. Peering back to his brother, who rolled his head slightly to peek out at his phone, Hanzo found himself easing in a place he wasn’t aware he was experiencing tension. Knowing Genji had someone for him right now alleviated an unknown stressor and it let Hanzo relax, sitting back down with his laptop to catch up on the documents he’d left for after dinner.  


* * *

  
  
Zenyatta appeared at their house more often from then on and Hanzo didn’t mind it, the man was quiet and polite, attending to his own needs and addressing Hanzo pleasantly. Genji was now thoroughly occupied as well, which meant more time for addressing work matters, specifically Dr. Ziegler and Ms Vaswani’s rapid pace of development and how they were both workaholics so maintaining a pace that suited both of them was rather difficult, even with his levels of efficiency. Perhaps he was distracted by the looming threat that was Sombra, the younger woman occasionally accompanying Ms Vaswani when she did meet with the scientists working on the prosthetic developments, that Hanzo was almost always also attending. Dr. Ziegler was already asking for materials for creating the artificial limbs, the items being delivered with prompt timing but funds were being squeezed. He pulled what he could from several different avenues, cutting back on some aesthetics Ms Vaswani had planned out, so that the additional structure in progress fit into the budget she’d been assigned, the woman listening to his requests without protest. Mr. Winston was also greeting him positively now, practically bounding up to Hanzo when he appeared to thank him for all the help the Shimada family had been giving them. His only response was to smile in return, but was still unsettled by the unethical means they used to reach this position. Even if Hanzo was trying to keep this entire project clean of the worst aspects of his family and their preferred methods of operation, he was still using blood stained money and it made his stomach twist.  
  
After a session of questioning Dr. Ziegler he found that she hadn’t told Genji of the project yet, her shoulders hunching as she admitted to it. Hanzo found a sense of frustration strum through him before she immediately made plans to discuss it with him. After the conversation, she’d informed him that things had gone fine and Genji did not seem to mind that she had requested help from the Shimadas which had Hanzo sighing in relief after the project had already come so far. But on returning home, Genji had expressed an incredible amount of concern, not because he was upset Dr. Ziegler had chosen to work with them but rather, the unjust methods of their family. Hanzo had no reply, reciting lines their father typically dropped. “It’s for the greater good.” He repeated it in his head, wanting it to mean something, wanting to return to the indifference he typically felt when it came to his work.  
  
“Angela would hate it! She wants to help people, to heal them! Not to benefit off the deaths of the people our family has killed!”  
  
“She does not need to know, she will help the progression of medical technology, I am making sure no external jobs are included in the funding of the project.”  
  
“And for how long can you maintain that _Hanzo_?” Genji’s voice was cold, the polar opposite of what Hanzo had become accustomed to after spending more time with him. They had fights but they’d been minimal recently as Hanzo eased into the comfortable pace of Genji’s life. Yet, with that single question things suddenly froze over in the house and Hanzo could not find a way to justify his actions.  
  
But Hanzo stood strong, voice unwavering, his methods may not be perfect but he was doing what he could for the brothers’ freedom, _Genji’s freedom_ , so his motives we’re acceptable. “Father has asked for it I cannot deny him.”  
  
“How can you listen to everything he says? He’s mad and I’m starting to think you are too. Angela is our _friend_. She deserves the truth.”  
  
Hanzo swallowed the lump forming in his throat, looking up into the harsh eyes his brother directed at him, “I listen so that we can live like this, so that you can maintain those friendships. The truth will ruin everything I have worked towards.” This is why he hated unnecessary relationships, this is why he should have distanced himself before he started caring. “When I take over the family I can change things, I will make amends.”  
  
“I don’t think I can believe that.” Hanzo’s blood ran cold from his brother’s judgment, the younger Shimada now refusing to meet his eyes. “You’ve been raised in his image and if you continue down this path you will follow in his ways.”  
  
The temperature shifted, suddenly burning and he felt himself boiling with indignation. The accusation set every inch of him into rage, unable to believe what his brother had said. Him, turn into their father? He’d never felt so insulted in his life. He did everything to prevent that, he wanted the Shimada family name to be something that people could respect, without the cruel undertones that were masked by their forefront. But more importantly he wanted Genji to belong again, to have a family to return to, a family related by blood who didn’t abandon him. “I do this for your sake, so that you can live carefree! And now you lecture me, after what I have given for you?”  
  
“I never asked you to sacrifice yourself for me.” Genji picked up his keys and slipped on his jacket, a multitude of swears slipping past his lips as he made his way to the front door. On exiting he slammed it behind him, leaving Hanzo to linger in the aftermath. With his anger slowly diminishing, his chest clenched uncomfortably as the emptiness of the house swept over him. He felt sick. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, no escape to be had. Sinking into a couch, head resting in his hands, he took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. It did little to nothing in benefitting him, just making him feel light headed. Genji hadn’t asked for anything which is why Hanzo wanted to give so much. He listened so that he had that avenue, to give Genji what he wanted, what their family refused to supply. He wanted his brother’s happiness, or that was his assumption. Or perhaps it was a justification for his actions that were riddled with sin and submerged in cruelty. Countless lies, half-truths, all so he could gain his father’s respect. Respect that he never seemed to properly earn. He hated the endless cycle of seeking his father’s validation. He didn’t want to accept it but perhaps Genji was his excuse to cover up the man he was turning into, the criminal his father wanted him to be. God he was a terrible excuse for a human being.  
  
Pulling him out of his personal pity party, the sound of the Facebook messenger app notified him of a new message, Hanzo pulling his phone out and bit his lip on seeing its contents. McCree had sent him another dog video. _Of course he had_. Hanzo hesitated for a whole of 2 seconds before swiping the notification to open the chat window. He didn’t bother watching the video, instead asking if the other man was free and if he could come over. This was a mistake and he knew it, but he was too desperate for a distraction to think rationally. McCree responded positively, stating he was at his own house instead of his parents’, which shocked Hanzo but he didn’t have the mental strength to dwell on the thought. When McCree gave Hanzo his address, the older Shimada wasted no time in grabbing his keys and left the house in a calmer manner in comparison to how his brother had.  


* * *

  
  
Hanzo was greeted by a more casual version of the cowboy get up McCree typically sported, the only thing resembling Clint Eastwood’s aesthetic being his Stetson. He shifted to the side, allowing Hanzo to step in, accompanied by his usual ‘howdy’, Hanzo nodding his head in response. As he moved into the space he noted the interior’s appearance mirroring the warmth of its owner’s disposition. The house consisted of a lot of oak and reds bled into its palette as much as it possibly could, overruling any other accent colours, excluding the whites of the walls. Well he did have a red feature wall, so the colour did put up a fight. Otherwise the flooring was hardwood, carpets placed under furnished areas making the sturdy surfaces more plush. Nothing stood out that made the house feel like McCree’s, Hanzo having the assumption he’d find horse shoes and the like hanging from the walls but it was relatively barren. But instead of choosing to comment he let himself be led into the main living expanse, the living room relatively small but comfortable enough. What surprised Hanzo most was the fact McCree’s house was rather clean for a man who lived on his own, Hanzo expected the man’s living space to be as messy as he was in his presentation. But he had been given 30 minutes to shove anything he could into more discreet locations considering it took that amount of time for Hanzo to arrive at his house after receiving his address. McCree leaned against the opening archway that lead out of the living room into an area of the house Hanzo had not seen, eyeing the older Shimada up, none of his usual mirth in his expression so Hanzo could only assume he’d caught on to his own sour mood. “Y’want somethin’ to drink?”  
  
“I am alright.”  
  
“Y’sure? I make a mean hot chocolate.”  
  
Hanzo let himself smile, if only slightly. “And here I thought you were only good with alcoholic beverages.”  
  
McCree replicated the expression easily, shining twice as bright, “Now c’mon darlin’ I ain’t some one trick pony.”  
  
“Very well then, I will sample your other areas of expertise.”  
  
It didn’t take long for the warm drink to be presented to Hanzo, placed on a coaster shaped like a round cactus, which was something completely McCree-esque and what the older Shimada expected from the house. McCree settled down next to him on the sofa, worn and used, but that seemed to make it softer. Hanzo reached out, taking the mug in both hands before raising it closer to his face.  
  
“So, what’s up?”  
  
His hands clenched around the porcelain, brows bowing together in confliction. He couldn’t tell McCree everything. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he was here but McCree’s name was the first thing that appeared when Hanzo was not prepared to stay alone in his house after slowly learning the comfort that came with company. And it took little to no time for him to smile around McCree, he knew he’d at least feel better around him, even if it was more so avoiding the problem rather than confronting it. Even so, the cowboy still needed an answer.  
  
“Genji and I had a fight.”  
  
“Well darn, you two are as close as two coats of paint. What could’a disturbed that?”  
  
Hanzo drew a long breath, trying to think of a way to put the sensitive topic without divulging any discriminating evidence. He came up short, not sure how to explain to someone that he was a lying criminal without letting them know that he was, in fact, a _lying criminal_. “It is… complicated.” He decided to opt out instead.  
  
McCree leaned back into the aged sofa, legs crossing at his ankles as he stretched out languid, like a lounging cat. He let the silence dwindle between them for a bit, as if he was looking for the right words to respond with. Well there wasn’t much you _could_ respond with when it came to such a vague statement and it showed as the man ran a hand through his beard, heel of his boot tapping against the maroon carpet underneath the coffee table in front of them.  
  
“Sorry sugar, ain’t the best with words.” He seemed to admit reluctantly, moving one hand up to the brim of his hat, pulling it down over his face to obscure his features slightly. “But I’m getting’ the impression y’don’t want t’talk about it right now.”  
  
Hanzo swallowed, head dropping as he rested his elbows on his knees, a slow nod following. A part of him wanted to, desperately, but it would do no good telling McCree everything. The cowboy followed along quickly, lifting up a remote beside his own mug of what Hanzo assumed was also hot chocolate and turning on the flat screen in front of the two of them. He switched to Netflix and handed the remote over to Hanzo, letting the man choose as he wished.  
  
“Have a pick then. We’ll sit here and relax and pass the time however y’like, how’s that sound?” He pushed the brim of his hat back up, smile radiating that constant positivity that followed McCree everywhere and Hanzo’s stomach swirled in a way that he was starting to become familiar with, especially when he was around the cowboy. It had alarm bells ringing from every direction but at the same time, he did not want to move from his position on the couch, a warm mug in his hand and someone to sit beside when his brother didn’t want to.  
  
He muttered a “thank you” before flipping through movies that were presented before defaulting to a David Attenborough documentary on predators. If he couldn’t rip something apart to release his frustration at least he’d be able to watch something be torn to pieces, morbid as it was. McCree picked up on it, whistling as he noted the violent selection. But he didn’t seem to mind it, leaning forward to grab his mug before dropping back into the cushions and letting himself sink into the flick. Hanzo also let himself be absorbed by the documentary while leaning back into the sofa, the only time he chose to shift being when he moved to put his empty mug back onto the coffee table. He leaned towards McCree, minute in movement, but turned his head in the other man’s direction while mumbling below the sound of David’s voice, “You do make good hot chocolate.”  
  
McCree’s neutral expression warped into a grin, his eyes not moving from the screen. “Told ya.”  
  
Silence followed for the remainder of the documentary, McCree glancing over as Hanzo chose to put another documentary on. He didn’t question it, simply allowing it to happen which Hanzo was thankful for. The trend continued before McCree asked Hanzo if he’d like dinner, Hanzo offering to help which McCree happily accepted, leading the other man into his kitchen. It was modest in size, nothing compared to the one Genji and Hanzo shared at home, but the style was nice and modern, a bench in the centre holding a sink and room for meal preparation. McCree got to cutting onions, occasionally wiping his eyes which made Hanzo snort while leaning against the kitchen counter. McCree bumped him playfully with his hip, making the smaller man huff in amusement. After asking what he could do, Hanzo was left to prep other ingredients, spices and herbs being distributed into specific amounts dictated by McCree as he moved on to dice a slab of steak. He said they were making chili con carne, with extra chili, which Hanzo wasn’t about to protest against. As McCree moved to mixing the ingredients onto the heat, Hanzo started clearing the bench. Stacking dishes into the dishwasher after rinsing them off, he took an occasional glance at McCree who seemed to be enjoying his craft immensely. Testing and tasting where he could, he hummed with pleasure, which was downright unfair when his voice was already astoundingly intoxicating when he wanted it to be. McCree then held out a spoon with a small amount of the dish on the end for Hanzo. He took it in, letting the spices dance on his tongue before mimicking the noise McCree had made before but more pronounced because he had never had chili con carne like this. His face coloured slightly after realising he’d praised the man so openly but the cowboy just laughed out a “Thank ya.” McCree then propped the lid on, leaving the dish to properly develop before making his way around the small kitchen island in the middle of the room and pulling open a high shelf which revealed an assortment of liquor.  
  
“Y’want somethin’ while we wait?” Hanzo opened his mouth to deny the option before McCree pulled open his fridge, revealing a half empty bottle of cabernet sauvignon, “Have wine too.”  
  
“You have a lot of alcohol in this house.”  
  
“I’m a bartender darlin’.” He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Hanzo couldn’t find an argument against it.  
  
“I guess a glass would not hurt.” McCree wasted no time in grinning and pouring. He diluted his whisky with water and ice while handing Hanzo a wine glass, the man clearly favouring the presentation of his drinks as well with the glasses he presented them in being of high quality. After a sip, he had to admit to the actual wine being just as good, and he couldn’t fault the man who used the liquid as his trade. He leaned against the kitchen island bench, allowing himself to relax, the almost mute sound of the stove being the only noise between the men. That was until Hanzo finally let himself spill, even if it was only the brim of his emotions.  
  
“I believe I have placed my work in front of how Genji feels. I thought I was doing right by him but he does not feel the same way.”  
  
McCree hummed, not at all deterred by the sudden change of pace. If anything, he joined Hanzo, resting against the counter as well, back pressed against it before he began. “Y’don’t stop workin’ do you?” Hanzo dropped his forearms against the kitchen counter, leaning further down against it, trying to sink away, as if reluctant to answer the question. McCree chuckled but it didn’t have much humour behind it. “Genji talks about it all the time. Says y’do so much because y’want t’give the both of you as much freedom as y’can. I think it makes him feel guilty.”  
  
Hanzo exhaled sharply, “He said he didn’t ask me to do so, so why would he feel guilt?”  
  
“It’s because he didn’t.” Hanzo grit his teeth. It hurt, hearing it from someone else. It made him feel like he’d done everything for no reason. Dedicated his life towards pleasing their father for no reason. “And y’shouldn’t live for him either, if y’don’t mind me sayin’.” The older Shimada paused, looking up at McCree, who suddenly appeared extremely serious. “I ain’t sayin’ y’shouldn’t work y’butt off or whatever it is y’want to do. But y’shouldn’t do it for someone else either. Live for yerself. You’re y’own person, y’deserve to work towards what y’want. Towards what makes y’happy.” He waved his free hand, the other still gripping his drink. “Puts pressure on y’kid brother too. And If yer putting so much of y’life into ‘doin’ it for him’, then he’s suddenly got all this weight on his back that he needs to lift to meet y’expectations. Somethin’ he hasn’t asked to ‘n’ shouldn’t need to work towards.”  
  
Hanzo’s voice was strained, caught in his throat, “I didn’t intend for that.”  
  
“‘N’ I’m sure y’didn’t sweet-pea, it’s just a natural response.” McCree twisted his upper body to face Hanzo, a hand sliding over his own, the man looking into his eyes and all rational was blown out the window as he met the man’s gaze. This was odd, comforting, _intimate_. But it appeared McCree had no ill intentions, no desire to take advantage of his moment of weakness; because there was nothing but sincerity in McCree’s eyes. “I said it before, yer a good brother Hanzo, and I meant it.” His lips pulled up in a smile, small but still present. “Yer as sweet as honey but as stubborn as a mule and maybe that’ll clash with y’brother sometimes but he still has nothin’ but good things to say about you. And ‘m sure he’d be happy t’see you takin care of y’self instead of tryin’ so hard for ‘his sake’.” McCree removed his hand from the top of Hanzo’s favouring the brim of his Stetson as he adjusted it. “Give it ago, try doin’ somethin’ that doesn’t involve pleasin’ someone else in y’life.”  
  
Hanzo’s voice caught in his throat, any noises crushed before they were vocalised, so he could only nod in return. McCree seemed satisfied with that and went back to attending to his drink, sipping leisurely but Hanzo was far from calm. Because the fact was, he had been doing things for himself recently. And all those instances involved him running off with McCree and truly enjoying his time and acting freely without the fear of judgement. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to it, just allowing himself to dwell in silence instead. How was this man so pivotal in his life, doing so much, opening so many doors for Hanzo that he’d refused to touch in the past? He was supposed to be some cowboy who Genji had some bizarre crush on before moving on. But he was becoming so much more influential than Hanzo liked but he couldn’t stop it or the man from bombarding into his world with his obnoxious spurs jingling away to remind Hanzo of his constant presence. McCree was somehow butting his way into the space between Hanzo and the expectations his father had of him, of the expectations Hanzo had of himself. But the most shocking thing was, he didn’t hate it; he couldn’t when the man made him feel so at ease. Though he refused to admit to it, out loud at least, and took another sip of his wine.  
  
McCree started the idle chatter up again after the lull in conversation and Hanzo went along with it, not minding the further distractions. It wasn’t long before dinner was finished, the meal eaten relatively late in the night but that did not make it any less enjoyable. The food was delicious and Hanzo had to compliment McCree on it, the man brimming with pride. It wasn’t long before they settled back down on the couch, tuning into another documentary. Hanzo felt an incredible need to sleep, drained more so emotionally than anything else as his eyes slowly fluttered closed. A part of him scolded himself for letting his exhaustion consume him for a second time around the cowboy but he couldn’t bring himself to care. McCree had told him to start doing things he wanted to anyway, and falling asleep on a couch next to a man who soothed him in ways he couldn’t have imagined really sounded like something he wanted to do in that moment. Even so, his last thoughts before unconsciousness were of his brother, hoping to make amends the next time they saw each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this chapter wasn't awkward? felt a little awkward for me to write but yeAH! developing relationship between jesse and hanzo is finally happening!! look at these two boys progress wow im proud of them


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exams hurt i am tired O(-<  
> but nothing can stop my desire to write about these two so here i am!!!
> 
> though the chapter is a little shorter than the others and there's a decent amount of dialog, apologies in advance!!
> 
> thanks for the comments and kudos as always they mean so much to me and I hope everyone enjoys the chapter!! <3

Waking to a cocoon of warmth and the scent of smoke and spice was something Hanzo could find himself enjoying getting used to. Despite currently being more vertical than horizontal with his neck bent at an angle that signalled pain for the remainder of the day, he was surprisingly content as he was wrapped in a soft blanket with the heat of another body beside him, the two of them huddled up against each other with McCree’s chin resting on the top of Hanzo’s head. He opened his eyes, dazed and stiff from how he’d slept but as he realised how comforting it was to be in someone else’s presence after rising from sleep, he couldn’t even bring himself to be upset after waking up next to the cowboy. Yet, as his senses followed his consciousness, he realised how inappropriate the entire thing was and shifted, attempting to pull away from McCree without waking him but managed to stir the man from slumber nonetheless, a low rumble sounding from the body next to him. But instead of rising, McCree simply buried his face into the locks atop Hanzo’s head, a pleased sigh leaving the cowboy and Hanzo could not do anything to fight down the sudden flush that assaulted his complexion. He tried grabbing McCree’s attention by telling the man to wake up but the words hitched in his throat as an arm that had previously been wrapped around the back of the couch moved in to secure Hanzo to McCree’s side. Instead, all he managed was a strangled noise of desperation that resembled the other man’s name as he twisted, mortification rising. McCree finally emerged from sleep, shifting as he gained his bearings before the shock settled for him too and he pulled back, so quickly it left Hanzo feeling momentarily empty before he scolded himself for feeling such a ludicrous emotion.  
  
“‘M sorry Hanzo,” he looked over, a sheepish smile on his face, now at a safe distance, “didn’t want t’wake you. Y’fell asleep on my shoulder. Good mornin’ tho.”  
  
Hanzo’s flush only deepened. Had he really fallen asleep _on the man?_ For a _second time?_ This was becoming a bad habit that he needed to stop. “I appreciate the concern but it was unnecessary.”  
  
“Y’looked mighty comfy.”  
  
Hanzo pursed his lips and looked away, trying to calm the temperature of his face. “And now I am sore from sleeping in such a position.”  
  
“Could give you a massage if y’want?”  
  
Hanzo’s voice arched in the same way his embarrassment did. “Unnecessary!” McCree’s lips curled up at one edge, a devious twist to the usually welcoming expression. Hanzo continued before he could do more damage. “May I borrow your bathroom?” He dug his hands into the cushions of the old couch, fishing out his phone to check for the time. “I must head to work soon.”  
  
“Course, down the hall second door to the left. Keep spare toothbrushes in the draws under the sink, look hard enough and you’ll find one if you need it.”  
  
“Thank you.” Hanzo pushed his side of the blanket off himself and onto the cowboy before straightening out his attire. It was crinkled and he felt clammy but there was no time to change into anything else, lest he be late again and have his father complain about it. He had plans to have a discussion with the head Shimada anyway, he wanted to act on what was said last night. Moving in the direction McCree had indicated, as he reached the opening to the hallway, he peered over his shoulder to look at the cowboy, the man fumbling with his own phone, hat moved from the coffee table to the top of his head again. “And McCree,” the man looked up, curious as to what Hanzo had to say, the older Shimada allowing a smirk to pass through his tamed features, “Good morning.”  
  
McCree’s eyes went wide, the man yanking his hat down over his face, a muffled “C’mon now.” Sounding from the inside of the Stetson and if Hanzo wasn’t mistaken, he’d seen a dusting of pink on sun kissed skin, just like the first time he’d seen McCree all those nights ago. Hanzo was satisfied, considering that a victory after having flushed first, and made his way to the bathroom.  
  
On exit, he noticed McCree had cleaned up as well which made him assume the man had two bathrooms, the cowboy already in his kitchen cooking what Hanzo assumed was breakfast. He smiled as the older Shimada entered, a bowl of pancake batter in front of him. “What d’you like with y’pancakes pardner?”  
  
“Butter and syrup is fine.”  
  
McCree hummed in approval. “A classic.”  
  
Breakfast was simple but pleasant, the two men returning to the couch in the main living room and eating while McCree insisted they watch the first episode of ‘Breaking Bad’ because Hanzo was one of the 5 people left on the earth who hadn’t witnessed the ‘masterpiece’. He had to admit, he was interested after the first episode, stating he may continue with the series when he finds the time. McCree gave him a satisfied smile, which lasted 1 second at best before he returned to his pancakes. Hanzo insisted on cleaning up even with McCree’s protests but the cowboy eventually succumbed. Hanzo mainly used it as an excuse to splash the other man with the water on his hands as he rinsed the dishes, McCree’s face switching from shocked to a wild grin, bumping Hanzo to the side so he could submerge his advantageously larger hands in fluid and ruined Hanzo’s white button up with them as he used the cloth as a makeshift handtowel. Hanzo growled in return, pulling at the material, “I have to be at work in an hour and it takes 30 minutes to drive there.”  
  
“Should’a thought of that before splashin’ me darlin’.”  
  
Hanzo emptied a cup of water onto McCree’s head. The cowboy returned the favour. Hanzo requested a new shirt and a hairdryer as McCree laughed so hard he slipped on the wet floor, making Hanzo take over the expression of amusement as McCree’s switched to slurred curses, both English and Spanish.  
  
After drying his hair to the best of his ability, Hanzo waited for McCree to bring in a button up, one that the cowboy had to iron because the only shirts he wore that had buttons were flannel and Hanzo would rather be caught dead before wearing one of those. As the cowboy made his way in, Hanzo moved to remove his current shirt, peeling the article of clothing off, the entire thing completely casual until McCree decided to gape at him.  He was staring, openly, which was _embarrassing_.  
  
“One hell of a tattoo y’got there sugar.”  
  
_Oh_ , _right._ “Uh yes,” Hanzo cleared his throat, subduing his nerves, “dragons are the symbol of my family. I’m surprised you haven’t seen it before, it is a sleeve.”  
  
“Yeah but y’always wearin’ clothes that cover it.” McCree stepped closer, examining Hanzo’s arm intently. He held it out for the cowboy who delicately took the limb in his hands, eyes working over coloured flesh, his gaze trailing the coiling dragons that wrapped all the way down to his wrist. But Hanzo’s thoughts were on the way McCree held his arm, so gentle and tender despite calloused hands, like he was afraid he’d drop the limb and it would break on collision with the ground. His touch was so soft, like a whisper against his skin, tracing circles with his thumb over inked lines and observing with awe. McCree made Hanzo feel like he was worth something and it made his pulse thump with a vigour he wasn’t familiar with. McCree’s face had focused in on the area around his shoulder, vision switching from the tattoo to Hanzo’s eyes and he felt his lip tremble as his breathing shuddered, escaping from his mouth in broken pieces. But it occurred to the shorter man, if McCree angled his head to the side, he’d see Hanzo’s soulmate mark written on his back and that made him tense, uncomfortable with the other man knowing the word engraved into his skin. He had no reason to feel the apprehension but he still did, so he pulled away, tilting his body away from the other man so his back was completely out of sight. If McCree sensed something he didn’t vocalise it, instead murmuring in his heavy southern tongue, “It’s beautiful.” The words dangled in the air, as if they were incomplete, as if McCree wanted to say more but he didn’t. Though Hanzo could make it out with the way the other man was looking at him now rather than at his tattoo, those intense eyes a mixture of honey and caramel tunnelling in on him, enraptured. _Beautiful like you._  
  
Hanzo felt like his heart wanted to leap out of his chest; he pulled on the button up McCree had offered him instead.  
  
They picked up on their usual banter quickly afterwards, Hanzo dressed in a shirt 3 sizes too big for him but it looked _alright_ if he tucked it in a lot. He thanked McCree, earnestly, their conversation from the previous night honestly having helped him more than he expected. He said goodbye, trying to forget the way McCree had looked at him, and he felt it worked as he instead, watched the man smile with his usual carefree attitude, hat tipped in a farewell rather than the typical greeting. He didn’t have time to focus on how McCree felt anyway, he had to work on himself right now, and the cowboy was not a part of that equation.  


* * *

  
  
On arrival at work Hanzo requested time with his father immediately and it took about 20 minutes before he was allowed in to see him. Sojiro Shimada sat at his desk, shuffling through papers, not bothering to look up at his son as he entered the room. Hanzo stood to his full height, hands behind his back and chest stuck out, proud. When Hanzo’s father raised his gaze, permitting his son to speak, his brows shot up on his forehead before furrowing more so than usual.  
  
“That shirt does not fit you Hanzo.”  
  
“Yes, I borrowed it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Hanzo cleared his throat, not wanting to explain the details of his situation. He was here for one reason and one reason only.  “I do not wish to talk of my choice of attire right now.”  
  
His father leaned back in his chair, placing down his documents and pressed his fingers into a steeple as he gave his son all of his attention. “What is it that you do want to talk about then?”  
  
“I will be taking some of the current budget of the prosthetics project and will put on a charity event to raise donations for the cause. I will not be participating in any of your methods to further expand the financial limitations that are set.”  
  
A momentary silence followed, transient in time but it felt like an eternity to Hanzo.  
  
“How inefficient.” His father stood from his seat and with long strides around his desk, he settled to lean against it while in front of it, the furniture no longer separating father and son. “It will be time consuming.” He listed the action with a raise of his finger, “May damage the project more than assist it.” Another finger raised. “And lastly, it is _completely_ unnecessary with every other avenue available to you.” A third digit joined the other two.  
  
“I am still going to do it.”  
  
His father’s voice rose, agitation on the edge of it. “No Hanzo, you are not.”  
  
“And I am telling you, _I am.”_ His father seemed to shake in rage, incredulous written into the folds of anger on his face, but Hanzo continued before he could say anything in response. “I do not want to ask for your assistance when it comes to the budget so this will be my solution.” He did not have an abundance of hope but Hanzo was still confident. The Shimada name was well known, it was seen positively in public. With Dr. Ziegler’s connections in the medical industry, which was many as she was heralded as a prodigy, he was sure he’d be able to raise enough to keep the project going. He’d be able to raise enough to purchase all the materials required for the beginnings of the artificial limbs while also allowing for Ms Vaswani to take some liberties in the structure of the building’s extension. When the time came and demands for funding increased he could run more public events or rope in more investors, there were a multitude of options he hadn’t considered because he followed his father so blindly. So now he was going to do this and he was going to do it _properly_. “If something goes wrong I will take full responsibility and do things as you request from there on out as compensation.”  
  
His father had one response, his tone livid as demanded an answer, “Where has all this rebellion come from?”  
  
Hanzo had already begun his exit out of his father’s office. “I am simply doing what I feel is right.” He closed the door on his father before the man could reply and he felt a wave of satisfaction roll over him.  
  
Work continued smoothly for the rest of the day, the only hiccup being his father confronting him later in the afternoon which was just him reprimanding Hanzo for acting like a spoilt child. But he was surprisingly willing to let Hanzo go along with what he wanted, mainly so he could learn a lesson. Hanzo would prove him wrong, if he didn’t want to become his father he’d have to change now and this was the first step. And instead of experiencing a crippling amount of fear as he’d assumed he would have to had endure, he swelled with pride. If anything, he should have acted of his own accord years ago.  


* * *

  
  
Returning home was the next major hurdle Hanzo had to leap over. He opened the door slowly, not sure if Genji had bothered returning home. His brother usually took a few days out after getting angry at Hanzo and the older Shimada wasn’t expecting much, so he almost slipped into cardiac arrest when the sound of his brother’s voice called from around the corner of the hallway.  
  
“Brother?” The voice’s owner turned the corner, eyes wide as he focused in on Hanzo. “You were out all night, I was uh,” he looked away, uncomfortable, “worried.”  
  
Hanzo snorted, closing the door behind him gently. It had endured enough recently. “I’m touched.”  
  
Genji looked hurt and Hanzo felt a sting of pain, he didn’t mean to be cruel. “Look I’m sor-“  
  
“Do not apologise.” The younger Shimada looked surprised before shaking his head and Hanzo intercepted before his brother could continue with the unnecessary apology. “I was wrong.” If Genji was shocked before, he had to sit down this time to prevent himself from falling over. The seat, ironically, was the floor. “I realise I have put pressure on you without realising. I have been cruel to Dr. Zielger as well and I have been listening to father an unnecessary amount.” Hanzo moved in towards his brother. “I dislike admitting to these faults but it was made clear to me. I do not fully understand how it is that you feel this pressure that I do not intend to put on you but if you are upset about it I am doing something wrong as your brother.” Hanzo held out his hand to his younger brother, offering to help him up. “Which is why, with advice from another, I will be doing things I want to do for myself.” He pulled Genji up but kept his hold on his brother’s hand, his grip strong, assuring. “I promise to take care of myself Genji, I will not follow father blindly from now on.”  
  
Genji appeared as if he was bursting at the seams, trying to contain his elation but he couldn’t any longer, wrapping his arms around his brother, “You have no idea how much of a relief that is to hear.” Hanzo felt himself smile but still pried his brother off himself.  
  
He took a sharp inhale, more to say, the harder part of what he wanted to tell Genji. “I still cannot tell Dr. Ziegler of what our family does.” He watched his brother’s happiness shrink but followed through, “The project is too far in, it would be far too difficult to clean up in the middle of the entire thing but,” he allowed himself to smile, hoping Genji would soon mirror the expression, “I am taking things into my own hands. Father will not be touching the funding, I will spread news of the project with Dr. Ziegler and we will run a large scale event, a public fundraiser. I know it isn’t perfect and I am still lying but this is my compromise, I will not let our family’s underhanded methods work their way into Dr. Ziegler’s passion.”  
  
Genji did smile after hearing Hanzo’s plans. They were simple but required a lot of effort to get done, organising a successful fundraiser was going to be difficult. Hanzo had put more work on his back if anything but he felt invigorated this time rather than the previous reluctance he usually associated with his work. Perhaps it was just the act of defiance itself motivating him, he’d take it either way.  
  
The younger Shimada spoke up, “I understand, which is also why I wanted to apologise.” _What?_ “I was rude to you, you are in a difficult situation and I cannot expect you to simply abandon years of work. But thank you, for changing your approach.” Hanzo lowered his gaze but the continuing smile on his face was unmistakable.  
  
“Since when did you become so mature?”  
  
“I’m always mature.”  
  
“You’ve haven’t come home on the day of an argument in 5 years.”  
  
Genji pressed his lips together, reluctant to reveal the answer. “Zenyatta… talked to me, helped me clear my head.”  
  
Hanzo couldn’t hold back his look of amusement, eyes focused on his little brother, the beginnings of pink colouring his cheeks. “Well we’ll have to invite him over so that I can thank him for drilling some common sense into you.”  
  
“Oh yeah, and who’s your mystery humility lecturer? _Jesse?_ ”  
  
Hanzo manoeuvred his way around his brother, walking towards the kitchen. “Not important, what do you want for dinner?”  
  
“Oh my God. You did stay at his house didn’t you?”  
  
“ _Dinner_ , Genji.”  
  
“Shogayaki. But don’t think you’re getting away from this.” Genji trailed behind his brother, preparing his 20 questions.

* * *

  
  
Hanzo did get away with it and told Genji little to nothing about his night at McCree’s house. Not that there was much to tell. His days were suddenly consumed with preparation for the first fundraising event. When he’d proposed the idea to _Angela_ , as she insisted Hanzo address her as from there on out, the doctor had looked absolutely thrilled by the idea. Hanzo was admittedly surprised and she’d told him to look at through a business perspective. He thought it over for a moment before realising, it would also be great for the prosthetic’s publicity which was something Angela wanted to attend to at some point anyway. She was probably just as capable of running a business as Hanzo was with the way she acted. As she dabbled into her contacts Hanzo pulled through his own list of associating companies that would be willing to work with the Shimadas and help set up a fundraiser for prosthetics. This was a niche he hadn’t tackled before, it was making relating to others for assistance relatively difficult. Nonetheless he managed to round up a few technology based developers who also dipped their feet into medical equipment on the occasion to help assist the actual event which was going to be a triathlon. ‘Get moving so that others have a chance to’ was the main slogan, he just wished he had a popular socialite like figure to spread the word.  
  
Genji laughed hearing Hanzo’s troubles before reminding him “Hana and Lucio are literal celebrities? You’re basically their forth dad?”  
  
“I do not want to be reminded of this.”  
  
He was reminded when both 21 year olds happily agreed to spreading awareness for the event because they’d do anything for their ‘cool dad’. Lucio had mentioned it at a local concert while Hana had broadcasted it throughout her streams and suddenly Hanzo had people of the younger generation interested in raising money for prosthetics. That was something he’d never expected to accomplish in his life. He was extremely grateful despite having protested before Genji had practically forced himself to ask the two… _kids._  
  
A website was set up documenting information of the event, scheduled to take place in 4 months which was extremely short notice but was the most he could push the deadline back to. Signups started in 3 weeks and people would be asked to collect donations before participating, rewards for the largest amounts acquired secured from the companies that had agreed to assist the project through supplying laptops and even a few full desktop set ups. He was shocked to see the feedback that was extremely positive, from all archives, even those Angela had contacted being happy to contribute to anything and everything they could. Some doctors had even expressed interest in signing up for the triathlon. Hanzo did not want to admit to looking forward to watching a group of people who typically sat behind desks doing research throw themselves into an athletic event but he definitely was. Setting up the beginnings had taken a month in itself, Hanzo completely immersed in his work and entirely distracted by it. It wasn’t too different to how he normally acted but Genji had noted on several occasions that the older Shimada looked happier. He had to admit to feeling happier as well. Each time the fact occurred to him he remembered he had McCree to thank for it and it made his heart swell. He’d relinquished a part of himself that relied on direction from others, he had established some control of his own life. He’d looked at his father’s expectations of him and _let go_. Hanzo clenched his fist on top of his keyboard, thoughts stuttering to a halt. No way, no way, _no way._ He had McCree to thank for in helping him here but that couldn’t- _he_ couldn’t be anything more. But was it so wrong if McCree was someone important to Hanzo? Perhaps. Sure, he was resolute in doing things on his own but if he wanted a future with someone that would mean denying the marriage proposal offered to his family. And after years of telling himself that marriage was another method for climbing status, the impression did not just wash away quickly, the idea of sacrificing that for a cowboy, of all people, sounded like a waste. At least that’s what he told himself, ignoring the sharp sting that pierced him like a blade after the thought made its way through his brain.  
  
He didn’t have time for McCree. He had to figure this out, he had to figure himself out. He didn’t need a soulmate, _he didn’t_. Hanzo pulled up another document to distract himself, he couldn’t afford the luxury of addressing such a useless train of thought anyway. He still had to address the moral conflict of the Vishkar corporation’s corrupt methods being used in the development of the lab that was implemented by his father. He wanted to expel them from the project but knew it would make things far from ideal, and Ms Vaswani was a woman Hanzo held no ill feelings towards. She seemed earnest in the way she approached her work and had kept firm footing within the walls of justice. It felt cruel to simply remove her, not to mention it would draw attention to the Shimadas from Sombra’s position. He’d justified Ms Vaswani’s presence in the project and suddenly turning his head in the other direction rose so many red flags it was simply unavoidable. Frustrating, but Hanzo knew when to fold, he’d simply trust in Ms Vaswani to do her best despite the corrupt company subtly controlling her from the shadows. Rubbing his temples, Hanzo consulted the coding department on how things were going with the online signup set up currently being established while also addressing the team focused on the design aspect of the charity event, asking them how far they were with creating the banners that would be displayed on the days where physical sign ups were going to be held. Another thing to process, the dates of signups for the public, he needed to attract crowds to them. There was a full week of them, Saturday through to Sunday and he’d be attending them all. While waiting for responses from his teams, he scrolled through lists of entertainers, wondering if he could hire a few to get a crowd going. Sure, he enjoyed working on a project with his own ideals backing the cause but maintaining the entire thing on his own was taxing. Hanzo was seriously starting to consider a break after it was all over, something unheard of from him.  
  
His mind drifted back to McCree, and how enjoyable it was to run away with him. Even if he did not want to rely on the idea of someone he was destined to, he could not deny just how easy it was to be with the man. A part of him longed for his company, it was most likely his fault Hanzo was thinking of getaway locations instead of focusing on the list of bands that he was supposed to contact. He was an infuriating distraction.  
  
Damn the cowboy; but bless the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW IS THAT FLIRTING I SEE????  
> \+ alternate title of this fic  
> how many times can jesse and hanzo play with water until it gets too gay for both of them to ignore it 
> 
> wehrhgdfdug also i looked up japanese dishes in the middle of writing this chapter and spent like an hour watching people cook japanese food. a real struggle lol  
> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN?!? have this unrelated chapter update lmaoojdsogdgsdg  
> oh god this took me so long and my final exams are still like 8 days away pray for me
> 
> A little more of a transition chapter but claps hands im excited to write the next chapter for obvious reasons!!
> 
> hope everyone enjoys <3

Hitting a brick wall when it came to progress was the last thing Hanzo expected but he was burning out quick and finding enough entertainers that would attract enough attention for an entire week was exhausting. What was he supposed to do, bring in a magician and tell them to make a new routine for every day? Ridiculous. There was a silver lining behind it all with the set up now planned, all décor arranged and the stalls acquired but he still needed enough people to set it up. He had enough people working under him to do it but at the same time that meant they had to remove themselves from all other tasks to contribute to the extra work Hanzo had decided to put upon himself with the publicity event. Genji had found him asleep on their living room couch about 4 times in the past week and with digital signups opening on the coming Friday and the weeklong event beginning the Sunday after it was making the entire thing a disaster of a situation. He had the word out, relatively, but he needed to keep people there so that the large crowds attracted more publicity. Not to mention he could feel Genji bursting with a need to say something but was holding himself back, which was irregular because the younger Shimada was typically outspoken. It was most likely Zenyatta’s influence, anything that resembled maturity entering Genji’s characteristics was typically the monk’s doing. But Hanzo could only handle so much of an antsy younger sibling observing his back whenever Hanzo decided to come home. Looking over his shoulder as he sat on the couch, full well knowing his brother was observing him, even if he claimed to be marathoning some new series on his laptop.  
  
“Is there something you need to say?”  
  
Genji flinched visibly before straightening in his seat, looking guilty. “What makes you think that?”  
  
“You’re more agitated than usual.”  
  
“I shouldn’t meddle-“  
  
“Just say it.”  
  
Genji shrunk down into his seat, caught out. “Why not ask everyone for help, with the fundraiser?” Hanzo paused, a frown present on his features before placing his own laptop to the side, getting up to pour himself some more tea. “I mean I’m sure they’d be happy to.”  
  
“I do not wish to bother them.”  
  
“It wouldn’t be bothering, and Angela’s involved too, they’d be more than willing.” Hanzo sighed, hands wrapped around his mug as he took a sip. The idea had come to mind but he was reluctant. He’d started on some internal reflecting recently after taking action for himself, and if he was reflecting correctly, his hesitation in asking anyone from ‘The Flashbang’ was most likely a pride issue. People he associated with shouldn’t need to see him asking for help, he was supposed to be perfect, not reliant on others, well those involved in his personal life.  It was a smart move to ask for help from them, it would solve the music issue with Lucio, who he knew would be happy to play for him and with the man himself present it would draw a crowd without any issue. A meet and greet with the popular ‘D.Va’ would also do wonders for publicity. The Reyes-Morrison crowd would be more than pleased to help set things up, sparing some of the workers in the Shimada company from neglecting their work. Ms Zaryanova was also supposedly pretty well known, specifically for heavy weight lifting and Ms Oxton was a world class sprinter. Considering the charity event was sports orientated, it would make sense to have them around supporting the cause, they could also double as entertainment, the public challenging them at their own specialties. It worked so well a part of Hanzo made him feel like they’d think he’d orchestrated it. “Zenyatta said he’s fine with helping too.” And now there was a monk, that’d grab attention too. _Great_. “Bro, really, there’s no harm in asking.”  
  
Hanzo grumbled softly into his mug, disliking the idea of swallowing his pride but after his mental summary he’d be stupid to pass it up. “I suppose.”  
  
Genji grinned, eyes lighting up with the expression. “That’s the spirit.”  
  
“Your friends are far too generous for their own good.”  
  
“They’re your friends too.”  
  
That sentence shouldn’t have made him feel so warm, but then again, it might have just been the tea he was drinking.  


* * *

  
  
Actually posing the question was something Hanzo hadn’t expected to find so difficult but as he sat silent next to Mr. Morrison in his usual spot on the Reyes-Morrison couch with a very observant Genji watching his movements, the older Shimada felt tense. Hana accused Genji of throwing their match of Street Fighter, which he basically was, his attention elsewhere as Hanzo stared at his laptop screen, trying to focus on emails rather than asking for a favour.   
  
Think of it as a business deal, that’s all it was. Sure there was no real deal happening, he wasn’t necessarily giving something back in return, but it was easier to think of it as a professional thing. Raising his gaze, he locked eyes on Mr. Morrison who was chewing on the end of his pen, word search in hand as he scanned a box of letters with an almost admirable intensity considering how loud the TV volume in the background was. Hanzo cleared his throat.  
  
“Mr. Morrison?” The older man looked up, Hanzo could see Genji smiling from his peripheral vision. “I am not sure of how much knowledge you have on the prosthetics project Ms Angela and I are working on currently but I would like to ask a favour of you.” Hanzo paused, before continuing. “And Mr. Reyes, and Sombra, and McCree… and perhaps everyone else.” Hana seemed to focus in on that, pausing the match before twisting around to face in the direction Genji was already looking in. Hanzo looked to her, giving her a nod as to let her know she was also involved. “We need help, the physical kind.” Hanzo continued, explaining the situation to Mr. Morrison who listened, seemingly happy to do so. It was a surprise, why would the other man look pleased when being asked a favour? But after he’d finished his explanation, Mr. Morrison could only smile, his face beaming brighter than McCree’s on a good day.  
  
“Thought you’d never ask. Gabe and I are fine with helping. I don’t know how willing Sombra would be with manual labour but she can set up anything tech like, and I’m guessing you’ll have a bunch of gadgets if Lucio and Hana want to help?” His eyes moved to the girl, who nodded in response, now blowing a bubble with her gum lazily with her attention off the game. “McCree won’t say no and Reinhardt and Ana won’t mind either. Reinhardt is perfect for the heavy lifting too. Oh, and Fareeha won’t hesitate when it comes to Angela.” Mr. Morrison hummed, thinking a little, “Not sure if Amélie will be completely willing but we might have a chance if Gabe talks to her. I can ask everyone else if you’d like? Give me the details and I’ll send a few messages around.” Hanzo was… touched. His exhaustion must have given him away to everyone, he had almost fallen asleep on the couch he was currently seated on several times but never actually went through with it. Though it was still different from his usually solid demeanour; how embarrassing. Even so, he could not have Mr. Morrison doing all his work for him.  
  
“No it is alright, if I could have a method of contacting them from you I will handle that aspect on my own. Your acceptance is already enough for me, I will forward on the details to you tomorrow. It is very short notice so do not feel pressured into attending if you cannot. I realise your work has you restricted during the weekdays?”  
  
“Not really, summer holidays, not many kids at school right now.”  
  
Hanzo looked away, now mortified after the simple blunder. He still retained his steady voice. “It is still fine if you cannot attend but I appreciate it all nonetheless.”  
  
Mr. Morrison laughed, leaning back as he lifted his word search up again, focus drifting. “We’ll do our best Hanzo, don’t stress.”  


* * *

  
  
Hanzo distributed his requests quickly after receiving contact details from Jack, everyone almost immediately replying in support of the public signups. Ms Zaryanova informed Hanzo she would not be in LA at the time regretfully but aside from that they were going to have a full house, especially with Mr. Wilhelm who extremely enthusiastic about the idea. So, when the time came to have everything set up, Hanzo had a handful of his own employees running around but was also followed by a parade of volunteers from ‘The Flashbang’. The turnout for setup had shocked him but he wouldn’t complain, thanking them sincerely and offered to purchase any refreshments they wanted. Several cool tanks of water were hidden in the shade of the signup stalls considering it was now summer and Hanzo was not going to have anyone fainting on his watch. As the food carts Hanzo had arranged for started rolling in, all the stalls opened up, allowing for people to place down their names for the fundraiser, small bags with information and a donation booklet stored inside handed out to everyone who did put their names out. Printing those had been hellish when it came to meeting the deadline, he was extremely thankful of his graphic design crew who were also present but seemed to have given up underneath the shade of a large umbrella. He couldn’t blame them, the group had pulled several all-nighters, much like the rest of the employees from the Shimada company, who were all collapsing into any available shade present. They lacked the energy to keep a vibrant pace going but with what they couldn’t provide everyone from ‘The Flashbang’ group did, the circle of friends vibrant and enthusiastic. Lucio had music blasting with Sombra by him for technical assistance and people were moving in, the crowd around him attending specifically to hear the younger man’s music but the amount of people present was still appreciated. Hana had a public meetup as well which had another large group of people swarming to her but she seemed to bask in it all, thoroughly enjoying the attention. She still directed the people who came to see her towards signups as well so Hanzo couldn’t ask for more. Ms Oxton addressed the more athletic crowd who were invested in performing well for the triathlon and also pulled a few stunts on the prepared gym mats laid out for her to do as she pleased. She was known for her speed but the woman may as well have been a gymnast with the flips she could pull off.  
  
Mr. Morrison and Mr. Reyes manned one of the signup stalls, Mr. Reyes easily luring people in with his quick wit and sharp sarcasm, Mr. Morrison simply glowed beside him and that gathered attention in himself. Mr. Reyes had told Hanzo to put Mr. Morrison beside him assuring him Mr. Morrison need only sit down and smile and his poster boy face would have women of all ages swarming to volunteer. Hanzo wasn’t surprised when Mr. Reyes’ prediction came through but a lot of the women were paying attention to him too, they were an incredibly dangerous pair and especially terrifying together. Mrs. Lacroix also lingered by Mr. Reyes, where she seemed comfortable and much like Mr. Morrison, sat there to draw eyes and look pretty. Using looks wasn’t a method Hanzo used often, especially when all 3 of the people being used were _married,_ but it was paying off and he didn’t want to disturb the rhythm. Angela was also working her magic, her angelic presence lulling people in and promoting her project with her fellow scientists, Mr. Winston beside her, beaming with pride as they slipped into their jargon that Hanzo had difficulties following.   
  
And then there was Mr. Wilhelm, both Amari women nearby watching the man _bench press_ any child who was willing. Occasionally he’d stack three on top of each other as he dropped to his back on one of the spare mats and lifted the kids with ease, laughing the entire time. McCree stood to the side too, conversing with the younger Amari, Ms Fareeha looking at McCree incredulously as the man grinned at her. He’d definitely just suggested something ludicrous, Hanzo could bet his entire family fortune on it. As he approached, after saying hello to both Ms Amari and Mr. Wilhelm, Hanzo took little to no time in asking Ms Fareeha what the cowboy had decided to force her into. She snorted, hands on her hips as she looked McCree over in a dismissive manner.  
  
“Thinks he can lift more kids up hanging from his biceps than I can.”  
  
“Hey now girly I was already deadlifting 350 pounds before you got out of your gangly stick phase.”  
  
“We don’t talk about that phase Jesse.”  
  
Hanzo couldn’t hide his amusement. He watched them compete, McCree admitting defeat as Ms Fareeha managed to maintain 3 kids from both arms, McCree one down on his left. He grumbled about ‘leftie’ letting him down.  
  
“These old bones ain’t what they used t’be.”  
  
“You’re not even 30.”  
  
McCree shook his head, as if Ms Fareeha hadn’t spoken, “Just ain’t the same when y’get older.” The younger woman gently nudged Hanzo with her elbow to grab his attention, smirk on her face. “Sore loser, right?”  
  
Hanzo chucked, unable to help himself when it came to expressing his amusement. “Yes, a sorry sight.”  
  
‘C’mon now darlin’ don’t rub her victory further into my wounds.”  
  
Hanzo rolled his eyes in response but there was no exasperation in the action, if anything he was feeling the exact opposite. It had been some time since Hanzo and McCree had been able to talk properly after their last encounter and Hanzo felt bad about it. He had thanked McCree for his assistance when it came to handling his emotional turmoil and said things were looking more positive but was immediately caught up in work and lacked the time to actually engage with the other man. It almost felt like he’d used McCree as a stepping stone, a part of him feeling bad about it but the other man hadn’t mentioned a thing, seemingly happy each time they did cross paths during the few minutes he’d meet McCree at the Reyes-Morrison house. After McCree had finished sulking, Hanzo requested his company, leading the cowboy away from the group as he tipped his hat, Ms Fareeha announcing she wanted to spend some time with Angela anyway. Hanzo walked slowly, his pacing laboured from his packed schedule but he held his head high and proud as he always did, keeping a strict surveillance of the event as he moved. McCree strolled beside him, easier and more carefree but couldn’t keep the smile off his face.  
  
“Now this is new.”  
  
“What is?”  
  
“Well you inviting me for a walk sugar bean.” Hanzo looked at him unimpressed but held his tongue as McCree rivalled the sun. His skin was darker now, like rich toffee melting in the heat but he seemed comfortable with it, at peace with the aggressive rays of sunlight. At least he was being sun smart with his hat, Hanzo found it a little less ridiculous now, but it was still rather odd.   
  
“We have not talked properly since I visited.” There was an elongated pause, McCree looking like he felt obliged to continue the discussion but Hanzo held up a hand as he tried to find the right words to describe the message he wanted to convey. “I do not wish for it to seem like I am using you for my own benefit.”  
  
“I ain’t never thought that.”  
  
“I am sure of such but still what I want to say is,” he took a sharp inhale, the air escaping him with time, “I do not want it to be that I only reach out to you when I am troubled.”  
  
McCree looked surprised before easing back to his lazy grin, the man leaning over, now closer to Hanzo’s height and looking positively mischievous, “Y’sayin’ you value my company, Hanzo?”  
  
Hanzo tensed in response and his posture only straightening further before he forced himself to relax again. He couldn’t deny it, that was the case, he was simply reluctant to voice it himself. Leaning away from the intrusion that was McCree in his personal space, he threw the cowboy a bone. “Yes, that is what I am saying.”  
  
McCree tipped his hat back, exposing more of his glowing elation, “Y’just made me happier than a pig in mud.”  
  
“It was hardly much praise.”  
  
“I dunno, hearin’ it from you makes it feels like bein’ given a medal.”  
  
Hanzo snorted, gently bumping his shoulder against McCree’s which made the man laugh openly and the shorter of the pair couldn’t restrain the smile that slipped onto his features. Time with him was simple as McCree was a simple man and Hanzo slipped into his casual pace, much more relaxed than what he was used to. Taut and stiff grew too tiring sometimes and he was starting to become more thankful for McCree’s presence. McCree continued to accompany him, the two of them conversing in between Hanzo checking in on everyone, making sure the entirety of the people helping with the public signup were hydrated and comfortable. He greeted people attending and asked them how they were doing, public relations being an important part of the business and having McCree, who could talk up a storm with just about anyone beside him, made things a lot easier. The entire day progressed smoothly and Hanzo couldn’t be more pleased. They’d pulled in more signatures for signups than the predetermined estimate which only made things better and he finally felt like things were going to work out. He would be able to show his father, and everyone in the company, that he could do what was asked of him without dropping to dirty methods. It was Sunday today though which meant the turnout would be higher than the weekdays but he still had hopes for Friday afternoon and the largest day would most definitely be Saturday, which is where he had invested most of his preparation time. Everyone remained to pack up the stalls and Hanzo stayed until the end, making sure the crowds had left before moving himself. Genji and Zenyatta had waited by where he’d parked his car, Genji getting his fingerprints on Hanzo’s Jaguar as he leaned against it which made him scowl and his little brother picked up on his misdeed rather quickly. Zenyatta laughed sweetly into an open palm. Side by side they looked endearing.   
  
“That was a good day wasn’t it?” Genji recovered quickly, walking over as Hanzo made his way towards the pair. “Everyone was here, Zen finally got to meet the whole crew. Sans Aleksandra that is.” He looked back towards the monk who nodded, looking as serene as ever.  
  
“It was nice, everyone seems very welcoming.”  
  
“You bet considering they managed to get Hanzo to become one of them.”  
  
Hanzo shot his brother a glare, pulling his keys out of his pocket to keep in his hands but not going to unlock the vehicle yet. “Genji you are being rude.”  
  
“Hey don’t you think Hanzo and Jesse look cute side by side?” That was a topic diversion if he’d ever heard one.  
  
Still, Hanzo interrupted before Zenyatta could answer. “Genji do not go down this path again.” Genji only gave him a wicked grin. Zenyatta remained silent, wiser than the younger Shimada and looked at Hanzo sympathetically, as if apologising for his behaviour. It appeared he was now managing Hanzo’s job of taking care of his little brother; something in his heart stung akin to empty nest syndrome. Ridiculous really, but Hanzo had realised he was far too attached, it was a good opportunity for him to grow as a person. He still ruffled Genji’s hair, tousling green into a messy awry which had the younger man frowning. Better than the teasing look he’d been showing Hanzo a second ago. “Did you need a lift home?”  
  
“No heading out with Zen, I’ll be home later.”  
  
“Be safe it’s getting dark.”  
  
“ _Yes mom_.” He uttered the sentence in overly affectionate Japanese and Hanzo chose to ignore him, focusing on Zenyatta.  
  
“Please take care of him.”  
  
“Of course, good evening Hanzo.” Genji pouted in Zenyatta’s direction who simply smiled back, motioning for the younger Shimada to follow as he began to leave. “Seeya’ bro.” Genji waved as he departed, like an obedient dog.   
  
Hanzo nodded as an acknowledgement before entering his car and driving home. Upon entering the house he let himself unwind with a long bath before settling in front of his laptop screen, checking over the schedule for tomorrow. It was Monday so it would be less eventful and things would proceed at a calmer pace, something Hanzo could appreciate. It was early in the night, only 9, but sleep crept up on him. Refusing to let himself sleep on anything that wasn’t a bed before he let the habit cement itself into his schedule, he retired to his room and slipped under the covers with full intention to completely knock out. Instead, he received a message from a one Jesse McCree who had taken an image of himself in his bartending uniform, Mr. Reyes and Sombra in the background looking exhausted. The man himself still smiled with all of his usual energy, eyes crinkling at their corners.   
  
“We did a double shift for you.”  
  
Hanzo felt guilt swirling within him after having asked the group to help him with the fund raiser and then them attending to their actual jobs later in the evening.  
  
“Thank you. Don’t worry about coming to help tomorrow, my family company should be more than enough.”  
  
McCree’s reply was immediate. “Pa and Sombra are taking that offer but I’ll be there.” His message was accompanied by a smiling emoticon.  
  
“It is quite alright McCree, rest.”  
  
“Nah don’t wanna I’ll be there.” Hanzo began typing out a reply but saw McCree’s typing icon appear before he could submit anything. “Ok darling gotta go Gabe’s getting mad I said I was only gonna send one message, see you tomorrow.”  
  
Hanzo didn’t have the energy to protest so he rolled over, put his phone on its charger and closed his eyes. McCree was good for heavy lifting anyway, there was no reason for him to complain if the man was willing.   


* * *

  
  
The remainder week of signups had slipped by with no issues, which was reassuring, the final Saturday being absolutely exhausting. Everyone had pulled out everything they had and to Hanzo’s surprise, Ms Zaryanova had even flown in from Russia after a very insistent Dr. Zhou had managed to convince her which had both her and Mr. Wilhelm competing in all areas of weight lifting. It had the attendees brewing with excitement and really drew in crowds of people. Hanzo had watched everything unfold as Ms Oxton raced kids with enthusiasm, Genji insisting he could rival her in her personal profession and was left eating her dust. He’d immediately returned to Zenyatta who comforted the younger Shimada’s damaged ego and they started looking more and more like a couple the more they stood side by side. Even Ms Vaswani had attended on the Saturday, displaying where some of the funding from the event would be invested into, her fully completed images of the simulated extension of the lab looking gorgeous. Sombra stood by her side, brimming with some sort of pride, she must have assisted with the creation of the images, it did look like it had been made with a mixture of traditional and digital media. Additionally, with the way Ms Vaswani peered over at Sombra from the corner of her eyes with a small up tilt of her lips, it was easy to see that there was shared fondness between the pair.   
  
Everything had gone so well, so many people had signed up, Hanzo couldn’t have asked for more.  
  
Almost everyone had stayed to clear things up, a few retreating due to commitments, including Mr. Reyes and Sombra but surprisingly McCree had remained. After Hanzo questioned him he’d told the shorter man to stay silent as he ducked out of his father’s range of sight and all Hanzo could do was roll his eyes. He was childish in every aspect but was also surprisingly wise when he was required to grow up and it was a part of McCree that Hanzo admired. Nonetheless, he listened and walked away from the cowboy as he hid, Mr. Reyes coming up to him to ask of McCree’s whereabouts before deciding he wasn’t worth the trouble. Hanzo couldn’t help the snicker that left him after hearing that, Mr. Reyes laughing in response and told Hanzo to inform McCree he was “in big trouble later.” Hanzo chose not to comment on how McCree was a 26 year old man and instead nodded, deciding it was more fun to play along. After the area cleared, the last of Hanzo’s employees leaving when he’d finished with a few words of thanks and praise, he returned to McCree’s side, who had emerged after confirming his family had left the premises. McCree had appeared every day and stayed late as well to pack up before scattering off to his shifts at the family bar but it appeared he was skipping today. Finding the cowboy was easy, the man grinning easy as the sun set behind him, colouring his red palette darker, richer undertones exposed by the orange and purple with navy bleeding into the perimeter of the horizon.  
  
“Don’t think I’ve seen you lookin’ so happy ever pardner’.”  
  
“It has been a very successful week.” And because of it Hanzo had every right to be pleased. “Thank you for your help, though your father has informed me there will be repercussions for your behaviour.”  
  
“Worth seein’ y’smile.” McCree’s own expression widening and colour bloomed high on Hanzo’s cheeks, which he fought down as quickly as possible but there was no point in denying that it’d happened. “‘N’ I’m used to Gabe throwin’ a fit at me every 3 minutes, ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”  
  
“I see.” Hanzo surveyed the area, looking for anything left at the outside venue they’d rented out before deciding things were finally settled enough to leave. Returning his gaze to McCree, he noted the man had moved in closer but remained at a respectable distance, hands pressed into distressed jean pockets, flannel missing due to the incredible amount of heat that was the LA sun in the middle of summer and instead a pure white shirt clung to his front with little subtly when it came to highlighting his build. Hanzo retained strong eye contact. “But you will have to head home now?”  
  
“Well y’see…” _Oh no_. McCree trailed off and that could only mean bad things, well bad ideas that would typically end in something entertaining at the sacrifice of some of Hanzo’s dignity, so he still dreaded it. “Was wonderin’ if you’d accompany me tonight?”  
  
Hanzo huffed, arms crossing over his front as he held himself at a distance. He danced around his inevitable acceptance of the invitation; it was more fun watching McCree attempt to convince him anyway. “Why would I do that. It has been a long week and I am exhausted, I was looking forward to my day off tomorrow.”  
  
“Yeah, so we could party tonight and then y’can rest up tomorrow. Reasonable, right?”  
  
“Perhaps I am too tired tonight.” McCree seemed to deflate, his hat tipping lower over his face to hide the puppy dog eyes Hanzo would undoubtedly fall for if they were directed at him without anything obscuring them.  
  
“But it’s only 7.”  
  
“Thirty.”  
  
“Hanzo, _please._ ”  
  
Hanzo hid his smile behind a hand and muffled his quiet amusement. A burst of warmth flooded through him as he realised how undeniably _adorable_ McCree was and it was starting to become harder to ignore. He was letting the man get away with more and more and he couldn’t find a reason to resist him anymore. He supposed a part of him could no longer deny it, but he genuinely cared for and adored McCree, the week of him doting at his heels making it obvious. It was an extremely dangerous thing, because he could never act on any emotion that expanded beyond friendship, but right now he basked in the happiness McCree provided him with albeit knowing it was a terrible decision. He still refused to believe a man like McCree could be his soulmate, solely because they were worlds apart and so different it was hard to even remotely comprehend the possibility, and that eased some of his nerves, but he could no longer deny that sway he felt when he was with the man. He let the feelings linger, temporary, but no less enjoyable.  
  
“Alright McCree, but it better be worth my time.”  
  
“Proved myself once darlin’ and I’ll do it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya boys r out to do silly things at night again and it'll be a blast i promise
> 
> the next chapter might be delayed for a bit but i'll try to drop it as soon as I can!!
> 
> thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY EXAMS ARE OVER  
> this took so long to write fsjfijdfd I HOPE ITS OK because the space in between typing sections of it out were long and that might make the flow a little more awkward  
> but i hope everyone enjoys this and thank you for all the comments and kudos!

Somewhere between McCree confirming he did not have a particular destination in mind and Hanzo and him making their way to the Shimada’s prized vehicle, McCree had slipped Hanzo’s keys out of his coat pocket which left him stunned. After questioning the cowboy, McCree only winked in response, dangling the keys from their ouroboros keychain, the metal clinking together tauntingly and Hanzo swallowed his desire to retaliate, well, _almost_ did. Starting off with an appearance of resignation, McCree dropped his guard as he noted Hanzo appeared indifferent over his sleight of hand which is when the shorter man dove in, hands clamping over larger ones, 4 limbs interweaving awkwardly with each other as both men struggled to gain purchase on the keys. Mirth erupted vocally and before he’d realised it, Hanzo was the one laughing, McCree joining in between his slurred lines of protest as his grip was pulled open by the shorter man. It was loud and chaotic but Hanzo felt himself loosening at his stiff edges and before he knew it he’d been dropped against the passenger side door of his car, a grinning McCree gazing down at him, his hands resting by the sides of Hanzo’s head to secure him from falling flat against the man he was pinning in. Time stood still as Hanzo let himself look at the cowboy, roughened up with his hair tousled like it always was underneath his wide brim Stetson and Hanzo could no longer ignore just how handsome McCree was without him even trying. Their pause was lengthy after acquiring their new positions, the two of them simply looking at each other as they recollected themselves until Hanzo slowly lifted a clenched hand, keys secured in its grip.  
  
McCree’s shock was written all over his face before his grin returned 10 times as powerful and secured the shorter man in his embrace before fighting for the shaped metal again.  
  
It didn’t take long for McCree to secure them while pulling out underhanded moves like _ticking_ , still Hanzo was reluctant to let McCree behind the wheel of his car but the man insisted he was a safe driver. He was lying of course, rather pumping the accelerator like a speed demon and with the convertible top removed, so there was no escaping how fast McCree decided to travel. When Hanzo raised his extreme amount of concern, the man only winked _again_ and told Hanzo to trust him. Hanzo did not but at the same time he didn’t have much of a choice and securely gripped the edge of his car instead. Despite it all, the wind rushing through his hair at such intense speeds with McCree at his side, grinning with pure vigour, Hanzo didn’t hate the experience, or perhaps that was the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He was going to get a whole hell of a lot of speeding tickets, he could tell right away.  
  
McCree slowly came down from his high, now paced at a legal speed as he cruised pleasantly, eyes scanning the area as if they were looking for something in particular. Hanzo chose only to look over on occasion, preferring the scenery breezing past them instead.  
  
“Didn’t take ya for a Jag guy.”  
  
Hanzo snapped out of his leisurely day dreaming, “Why is that?”  
  
“Thought a guy like you’d have a Lambo, or somethin’.”  
  
“3.”  
  
“‘Scuse me?”  
  
“I own 3 Lamborghinis.”  
  
McCree choked on an inhale before continuing. “Then the hell y’drivin’ one o’ these ‘round for then?”  
  
“The Jaguar gets robbed less often.”  
  
McCree’s voice teetered off into a quieter “Jesus Christ.” And it made Hanzo snicker before leaning back into his seat. It was also the first sports car he’d purchased without his father’s involvement and he was attached to it more so than anything else that had been given him due to his family’s abundance of wealth. He wondered what McCree drove, not wanting to stereotype but couldn’t see the man owning anything besides a beaten down old pickup. Imagining him behind the wheel of one of those seemed too perfect, his hat resting on the passenger side as he tracked over the countryside on a road trip to nowhere. Maybe a tour of the states, using the back of the car to sleep in on the sides of abandoned roads, gazing up at the stars with silence as his only company. It suited the man, Hanzo concluded, a part of him wondering what it would be like to join McCree and without his permission, dread encompassed his being as he realised just how much he’d enjoy that. Allowing McCree to drive mindlessly through endless terrain for hours with the radio between them playing tunes that Hanzo would hate because he knew McCree would blast country music but he wouldn’t be upset, because McCree would grin over his complaints and that smile alone was a saving grace. That smile alone had done so much for Hanzo and _God_ was it so wrongly right and everything seemed so perfect when he knew the cowboy was smiling because of him. So many red lights, and just like McCree had, Hanzo sped through them, ignoring the warnings. Temporary, he told himself, a strong infatuation that he could enjoy and then remove himself when necessary. McCree would get bored and so would he, it would be fine with time, so he ignored the brakes in his mind and settled down for the ride.  
  
Eventually McCree pulled up at some elaborate venue along the coastline, the establishment running parallel with the beach and blaring with music despite it only being 8, so there was definitely a large celebration going on. The entire thing was gorgeous, seashell décor plastered over the bannisters leading up towards a protruding balcony overlooking the sea, lights underneath the platform illuminating the sand below and allowing the water to reflect their shine with an ethereal glow. It was stunning, really.  
  
“How’s about we crash that there party now darlin’?” McCree gestured towards the venue with an extended hand and Hanzo felt his admiration for the area dissipate.  
  
“No.” Firm and resolute.  
  
“We’re gonna go crash that party.” McCree returned with the same tone.  
  
Hanzo looked at McCree, glaring daggers as the man’s face expressed his extreme desire to ruin someone’s get together. “Have I ever told you I hate you?”  
  
McCree simply chuckled in response, head tipping back as his laughter grew. His eyes squeezed closed as he secured his hat on his head with a hand and Hanzo could do nothing but admire how charming the sound of the other man’s amusement was. As McCree calmed, he grinned, the expression making his eyes shine. “Nah, makes me think yer lyin’.”  
  
“I most definitely am not.”  
  
“I’ll believe it if y’can say it at the end of the night then.”  
  
“Deal.”  
  
As they put the cover back up and exited the vehicle, Hanzo spotted a few party guests lining along the balcony, flute glasses in hand and conversing pleasantly. That wasn’t his main focus though as he realised, the both of them were severely underdressed for whatever occasion was being held in the establishment and he quickly grabbed at McCree’s arm, heaving him in so he could hiss his words with a final attempt to sway the cowboy from destroying everyone’s evening.  
  
“We’ll be caught out in an instant, that woman is wearing a floor length dress.”  
  
“Didn’t know you were the dress wearin’ type darlin’.”  
  
Hanzo’s mouth opened before sealing closed again in a thin line. He glared at the larger man, brows pressed together and arms crossed over his chest. McCree only chuckled in response which only further increased his growing agitation. “ _McCree._ ”   
  
“Hey now I ain’t gonna complain’ if y’keen to slip into a ballgown.”  
  
“I ‘ _ain’t’_ ,” that managed to pull a laugh out of the other man, “wearing anything of the sort and I refuse to enter that establishment without at least suiting the occasion.”  
  
McCree hummed, contemplating his next move, which meant he obviously was not deterred to Hanzo’s disappointment. “Y’know, the shops are still open right now.”  
  
“You cannot be suggesting what I think you are suggesting.”  
  
McCree wrapped an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders, pulling him in with a broad smile and a tip of his hat, and Hanzo tried to fight down the warmth he felt when he saw the unbridled happiness in the other man’s eyes. “Life’s an adventure with me around darlin’, just accept it and go with the flow.”  
  
Jesse McCree was intolerable. Hanzo let the other man drag him to the nearest mall on foot.

* * *

  
  
The visit to obtain formal attire was short and hasty, the store assistants looking extremely disgruntled when two men came in so close to closing and requesting entire outfits. Hanzo had been admittedly reluctant, asking incredulously if McCree was “Seriously buying a suit right now?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Then-“  
  
“ _We’re_ buyin’ suits right now.”  
  
Hanzo learned to stop talking there. He let himself be measured and properly assisted despite the fact he owned a countless number of handmade suits tailored specifically to his body and purchased an entirely new set of clothing. They didn’t fit as well as everything else he owned but it was enough for one night, he supposed. In the midst of glancing himself over, relatively distracted by the sheen of metallic blue that appeared in the correct lighting on the dark navy, if not almost black suit jacket he wore, he noted McCree’s exit from his changing room. Hanzo’s throat closed the moment he looked over.  
  
His suit was charcoal grey with a burgundy dress shirt. A dark black tie broke down the centre of the rich colour of his shirt and a waistcoat pulled at his figure, accentuating the broad build of his shoulders in comparison to the slimmer body he maintained. Hanzo forced himself to look away, disliking the way his mouth dried up and attended to his own tie, head swimming with the image of McCree with his hair pushed back and off his face, his strong jawline now easier to admire. He was only just preparing to admit to his attraction, this was entirely far too much for him. McCree made it worse as he made his way over, standing by him and Hanzo met his eyes in their reflections as they both focused on how they looked in the mirror in front of him. McCree held his Stetson to his chest, lips curled upward in a minute arch. He looked like a gentleman, Hanzo’s stomach twisted and turned.  
  
“Looks like I’ll be leavin’ m’hat behind.”  
  
“I suppose.”  
  
He couldn’t help but notice how they contrasted with their blue and red themes. Opposites that complimented each other, it was distractingly obvious.  
  
“Y’look amazin’.” McCree’s words were uttered so softly that Hanzo had almost missed them. The sincerity behind them was so incredibly intense and it made everything so much more difficult for Hanzo. He couldn’t meet McCree’s eyes any longer and if his complexion had reddened he’d deny it to his dying breath.  
  
“You are not so bad yourself.”  
  
McCree grinned, Hanzo noted from his peripherals, and then dropped a large hand on Hanzo’s shoulder before backing up to the store counter. “Thanks pardner.”  
  
Hanzo stood still for a moment longer, taking the moment he needed to compose himself before inhaling sharply and following. McCree would be the death of him.  
  
After paying they left the small mall along the coast, still dressed in their best, McCree gingerly tucking away his wallet with an expression of pain considering the price of their attire was _not_ cheap. Hanzo did not possess enough sympathy to pay when McCree was the one dragging them both into an extremely unwise situation anyway. Returning to Hanzo’s vehicle had them leaving the clothes they’d previously adorned in the car before the two of them strode towards the establishment, music still blasting, a chorus of voices resounding from the interior as things seemed to have picked up since McCree and he had been around previously. As they approached the entrance, the previous dread Hanzo had been feeling returned full force as he frowned. McCree noticed, sliding a hand to the small of Hanzo’s back, making him stiffen and McCree’s hand seemed to hesitate in its position, rightly so as he was breaching a boundary, but the man ran his mouth as a follow up, like he always did.  
  
“Relax, I got y’back, alright pardner?”  
  
Literally, apparently, as he felt the hand resting against him slide up to a less intimate position and helped push Hanzo forward. “We are doing something inappropriate.”  
  
“Ain’t the first time sugar.”  
  
“You are a terrible influence.”  
  
McCree laughed as if he already knew. Nonetheless, they made their way in, McCree acting completely casual about the entire situation which allowed Hanzo to remain calm as they stepped into the main room the celebration was being held in. Despite it all, Hanzo’s composure almost crumbled as he realised what they’d just done, eyes wide as they locked on a magnificent white dress adorned by a very happy woman who was in the arms of a very well dressed man.  
  
The words left him before he had even realised. “This is a _fucking_ wedding.” Hanzo seldom swore but the timing felt appropriate. McCree had to mute his laughter into his hand after hearing it. “McCree we are crashing a _fucking_ wedding.”  
  
“I can see that.”  
  
“We need to leave.”  
  
“Not a chance.”  
  
The cowboy pulled Hanzo along further into the room, picking a bubbling champagne flute for the shorter man and then himself while also cramming a handful of hors d'oeuvre into his mouth with impressive speed. He waltzed around the room like he belonged there, all while maintaining a hand on Hanzo’s back the entire time as if trying to comfort him. McCree took no issue in conversing with the guests either, the man approaching them with a confident air, his greetings pleasant and nonchalant. Each time he was asked how the two of them knew the newlyweds he’d come up with something new. Friends who met on a trip in Honolulu, several unlikely chance encounters while touring the Mediterranean, each claim was outrageous but he looked like he thoroughly enjoyed coming up with them. Hanzo found himself slipping into McCree’s rhythm, adding to the stories, telling guests that he still remembered the blistering heat of the summer in Egypt as they bonded with the bride and groom over the never ending blaze of the sun while making their way through touring the pyramids. McCree talked up a storm in between Hanzo’s brief commentary, guests occasionally crowding around as he recalled journeys Hanzo and he had been on. All of them were false but even the Shimada himself couldn’t help but listen, wondering how much he’d enjoy travelling to Fiji with the cowboy or if rowing along the seas that surrounded Malta while getting a scenic view of the island would be as picturesque as McCree described it to be. It was easy to get lost in his words, that southern charm to his tone lulling people in and it made Hanzo realise again, he didn’t hate the idea of spending so much time with McCree. The line of thought was dangerous so, instead of allowing his mind to linger on it, he instead tuned back into the cowboy’s reencounters of their hiking experiences through the Alps, his audience only getting larger. They continued with the trend before, to Hanzo’s chagrin, came face to face with the happy couple themselves and there were no more lies that could cover their tracks now. McCree tried to pass it off, coming up with some other tall tale before the bride scolded him gently, her hand swatting at his shoulder with little to no force behind the action before mumbling quietly. “I know you weren’t invited but everyone loves listening to you both.”  
  
Her husband chuckled, clearly amused. “Hope you don’t mind entertaining everyone further.”  
  
McCree’s face lit up with a smile. “‘Corse, the least we could do.”  
  
The bride beamed back, looking absolutely beautiful on her special day. Both of their marks were visible on the backs of their hands, brushing against each other as they stood side by side. ‘To love you is the greatest gift I could ever receive.’ A place within Hanzo twisted, an undeniable longing for something so pure in his own life. “Considering this is an evening celebrating love itself I’d hate to turn a couple away on a date night anyway.”  
  
Both men froze. McCree’s hand finally dropped from Hanzo’s back, as if retreating from the idea of it. His gaze moved to Hanzo’s face analysing his expression and the shorter man felt scorned as the woman made it evidently clear that this _was_ something McCree wanted and it was all up to Hanzo and if he wanted it to proceed in the direction everyone at the event assumed they’d already rode down. The words of denial piled at the tip of his tongue, knowing he should admit to the couple that McCree and he were nothing of the sort, that they weren’t even close to as attached as the newlyweds were but instead he took McCree’s hand in his own and leaned in towards the bride, tentative in action.  
  
“May I request that you not tell anyone?” McCree’s face blossomed, red crawling over his cheeks and it was so positively endearing it made Hanzo’s chest clench.  
  
“Oh?” The woman mimicked Hanzo’s motion, clearly interested,  
  
“I am from a relatively public company, if the word got out it might do more harm than good.”  
  
She nodded, suddenly completely understanding, her hand wrapped in her husband’s, much like McCree’s in Hanzo’s. “I see.” Straightening her posture, she leaned against the man by her side, a sympathetic smile to her sweet features. “I hope you can find a day where you are able to express your love without judgment.”  
  
Hanzo could only thank her and then excuse himself, McCree in tow, with a nod of his head. He wished the couple the best before retreating towards the open balcony they’d seen before, McCree’s hand still in his and the taller man remaining strangely silent. After escorting him out into an area where they wouldn’t be conversing through the sound of music, Hanzo dragged his company to a corner where less people lingered and lowered his voice, disliking the situation.  
  
“I apologise.”  
  
McCree rubbed the back of his neck, their hands still linked. “I’m not too clear on what yer apologising for darlin’.”  
  
The endearment stung. “I did not correct her assumption.” McCree moved to open his mouth to continue but Hanzo interrupted before things became out of hand. “I did not want things to become awkward, and I feel it would be easier to go along with the charade, for the evening at least, if you are ok with that?”  
  
A few seconds passed but it felt like an eternity and what seemed like 100 emotions flickered through McCree’s eyes, transient in nature but all of them vivid and bordering desperate. Despite the turmoil, he grounded himself again and found his voice. “S’alright, I can handle that.” He went to go tip his hat before realising it wasn’t there and carded his hand through his hair instead. “For tonight.”  
  
There was so much more to be said, Hanzo could feel it, but the both of them chose to ignore it, re-entering the event hand in hand instead.  
  
The rest of the evening was nothing short of pure entertainment, McCree once again taking centre stage on the dancefloor and possessing no shame in the ways he moved. It started off tame, like anything you’d expect from a man who wore spurs and a cowboy hat daily but he embraced the rhythm and began to sway, Hanzo pulled into his steps, more rigid and steady on his feet which made keeping up with McCree relatively difficult. He overcame the issue when he was handed another glass of champagne and wasted no time in consuming it in one go after the encouragement of onlookers. That garnered a whistle from the cowboy but they wasted no time in rocking to the beat as McCree reeled others in, everyone joining. The bride had stolen McCree at some point which Hanzo couldn’t complain about as he watched the relatively intoxicated cowboy twirl the woman who held her dress up in one hand, the both of them laughing freely. It was that mirth that the cowboy presented that had Hanzo’s heart a flutter but something about McCree in this moment was extraordinarily special. And then he glanced over to Hanzo and the shorter man’s breath caught as he saw those caramel depths narrow with pure and plain happiness, so much joy expressed through his eyes, the edges crinkling as his smile made his gaze sparkle despite how heavy lidded it was through the sheer elation. He extended his arms as the bride relinquished him for her new husband, the couple now dancing, McCree now completely focused on Hanzo, waiting, patient, but nonetheless eager and he was drawn to it, his steps slow and deliberate before McCree called over the music;  
  
“C’mon Han darlin’, let go, let’s have some fun.”  
  
Breathing alluded him as he basically tripped into McCree’s arms, the larger man wrapping him in his embrace before straightening him up with a laugh. He made a comment about Hanzo having drunk too much but he didn’t hear it beyond the ringing of those 2 damned words that strung together as he struggled to deny everything he’d been trying to hold on to for the past few months. McCree leaned in as if to check if Hanzo was ok, eyes scanning his face but the mirth hadn’t dissipated so Hanzo forced out a smile, the expression reliant on alcohol, so that the cowboy would be satisfied. A hand slid back to the small of his back again, but this time McCree’s left, the same that had his soulmate mark and it secured itself over where Hanzo’s own rested and a shiver shot up his spine. Their words, almost touching, so much more solidifying, so-  
  
“Y’alright there pardner?”  
  
Hanzo released a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. Peering up into McCree’s eyes, he nodded, lacing his fingers with the other man’s, his other hand attending to his shoulder. He was used to taking McCree’s position when dancing was involved, so the situation was relatively awkward at start but he fell into step after a little bit of fumbling. He let McCree lead him, like he’d done so many times already, abandoning the rational that refused to let him relax. _Do what you want Hanzo_ , a mantra as he swung to the music, letting himself smile genuinely while McCree spun him with ease, like he belonged there.

* * *

  
  
They left the venue after thanking the bride and groom for their hospitality. They sent them off with a wave, pleased that the two had come, which was still a surprise to Hanzo. Neither he or McCree was capable of driving after how much they’d had to drink so Hanzo made a move to pull out his phone, informing McCree he was looking for a ride. The man placed a hand on top of Hanzo’s and shook his head and then tilting it towards the beach, a large grin on his face. Hanzo protested, if only slightly, before letting the man drag him over to the sand, both men abandoning their shoes and socks by Hanzo’s Jaguar to enjoy the full extent of the feeling of sand between their toes. They walked side by side, McCree closer to the sea, wanting to dip his feet into the ocean as they strolled along the length of the coast. They conversed idly, chatter light and pleasant as McCree recounted events from the night and proceeded to list off how many aunts had hit on him despite them knowing Hanzo and he were dating, or ‘fake dating’, as he corrected himself. Hanzo could only snort in response, informing the man he talked too much, elbowing him gently in the side. It made McCree stumble, dangerously close to tipping into the body of water he was treading through and he cursed, not prepared to ruin the suit he’d spent a small fortune on. Hanzo let a smirk pull through his features, hands at the ready to drop the larger man in and McCree was immediately on the ready, side stepping as Hanzo went in for the kill. The man ripped off his suit jacket and waist coat, shirt following shortly after and he’d managed to do it so fast Hanzo had barely even registered what was happening before he was lifted over McCree’s shoulder and carried out towards the sea, the man below him slowly wading through water, loud laughter as Hanzo shouted for mercy. He received none, obviously, because he could handle losing this suit, and was dumped into waist deep saltwater before surfacing and letting McCree know he was in trouble with his glare alone and then tackled the man under the waves.  
  
The both of them recollected themselves on the sand, panting for air, McCree still missing his clothes and Hanzo keeping to his shirt but had abandoned everything else above his waist. He dropped flat, feeling the sand stick to him, something extremely uncomfortable to experience, knowing the grains would be threaded through his hair for weeks from now. But he still didn’t hate it, pleased he’d spent the evening out after the exhaustion of signups was finally over.  
  
“I have avoided the beach for a decade and you have dragged me back to this infernal location again.”  
  
McCree chuckled, also spread out on his back, Hanzo adamantly avoiding looking him over to admire his form. “How’d you avoid it for so long is what’s got me stumped.” Running a hand through his hair, McCree pushed the stray strands from his face. “No family visits or anythin’?”  
  
“No. My family isn’t entirely the most functioning unit.” Hanzo bit his lip after realising what he’d uttered. Alcohol still ran through his veins, making him looser, but he had already spoken about his personal life with McCree so it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “I am envious… of how your family gets along.”  
  
McCree remained silent for a moment, which hand Hanzo propping himself up on his elbows to see if he’d said something wrong. He met McCree’s gaze before the cowboy shook his head, ever present smile still holding strong. “Sorry, just reflectin’. We weren’t always like this y’know?” Hanzo arched a brow, hoping McCree would be able to make out the action with the lights behind them being their only source of illumination aside from the stars and the moon. “Well they were, I wasn’t. Gabe ‘n’ Jack ain’t my actual parents.” Hanzo wanted to mention that it was only common sense for that to be the case, considering they both seemed to be biologically male but remained silent as McCree ran a hand over his face. “I mean legally, shit,” he laughed, seemingly catching onto his mistake, “they never officially adopted me.” McCree drew a long breath before searching out Hanzo’s eyes in the darkness of night, locking his gaze on his company, his smile now strained. “Me Ma ‘n’ Pa had me when they were kids themselves see? Pa was caught up in some gang, got himself killed real early, I was 2 ‘n’ Ma didn’t know how to take care of a kid herself. Even her family didn’t care t’help, deep in the catholic lifestyle, premarital sex ‘n’ all that bein’ a disgrace, so Ma was disowned when she wanted t’keep me.” McCree sat up properly before bowing forwards, knees propping up slightly and spread, arms resting on them. “She was busy ‘nough workin’ 2 jobs so we had a roof over our heads but I was a real rough kid as I got older, gave her a lotta trouble, wanted to see what got Pa killed. Ended up recruited by the same kinda’ guys who Pa handed his life over to. Deadlocks, terrible group o’ men.” He took in a larger breath, seemingly upset by what he wanted to say next. “Worried Ma sick but I was 17 ‘n’ obviously thought I was top shit so I didn’t do a damn thing she asked, even when she pleaded. God I was a rotten kid. She lost a lotta sleep worrin’ about me, she also had the occasional night shift. Had a microsleep or whatever behind the wheel, crashed her car, died in the hospital a day later.” McCree, for a moment, went silent. Hanzo didn’t have a response. “S’alright, Gabe’s Ma’s cousin, I’d never met him before ‘cause he was also thrown out for the whole gay thing and they never bothered talkin’ but she’d listed him in case of anythin’ terrible happenin’. He rocked up at the hospital, saw me cryin’ over her and welcomed me in with open arms. I remember thinkin’ he was crazy, lettin’ in some hoodlum into his house but he did ‘n’ Jack was just as nice. Sombra took her time to warm up t’me but I didn’t make things easy.” He let a low chuckle leave him but it lacked humour. “I stuck with the gang ‘cause I was too cool or whatever but Gabe brought me in real good, he showed me the kinda’ love m’Ma did but wasn’t as soft as her, whipped me into shape. Jack and Gabe played good cop bad cop so I always milked Jack when Gabe was bein’ a real bitch but it worked out. I’m just lucky, I guess.”  
  
McCree finished with a raise of his head, smiling despite revealing himself to someone. Hanzo struggled to find his voice, a soft mumble of “Oh” his best attempt. It made McCree laugh, properly, before Hanzo frowned, clearing his throat. “I am sorry to hear that.”  
  
“No need to say that, I told you, I’m lucky now.” Hanzo nodded, still at a loss of what to say. “I say y’can have two families, the ones that bring ya into this world and then there’s the one that y’choose. They can be as good as each other or sometimes y’just need a group of people who can do what y’blood can’t. Kinda’ like how we brought Genji in, he’s basically become one of Gabe and Jack’s kids at this point. Just like Hana and Lucio. We’re dysfunctional but we love each other, and that’s what matters in my books.” McCree moved to tip his hat and realised he was still missing it. It made Hanzo huff in amusement which made the larger man pout but Hanzo shook his head in amusement.  
  
“I see.” Digging his fingers into the sand below him, Hanzo hummed, surprised by how much he’d been entrusted with. “Thank you for telling me this.”  
  
“Naw, just rambled. Thanks for listenin’, Han.”  
  
Hanzo smiled, sincere, “A pleasure.” But he realised the depth of meaning to what was shared, the extending of a hand, the kind of support Hanzo hadn’t been given by his family, his father. He simply needed to take it, and he was beginning to. They slipped back into casual conversation again, easy and pleasant before Hanzo found himself slipping into sleep. McCree took initiative and pulled out his phone, dialling for Mr. Morrison after asking Hanzo which of the fathers he should call. He received a “Smart choice” when he picked ‘good cop’.  
  
Mr. Morrison raised a brow on arrival, noting the two damp men but now understood why McCree had requested towels when he’d called.  
  
“How do you both always end up covered in water?”  
  
McCree came over from plucking his Stetson from Hanzo’s car. “Don’t actually know myself Pops.”  
  
Mr. Morrison simply sighed and rolled his eyes before pointing to the back. “Don’t ruin the seats, Gabe’s already pissed considering it’s after bar hours and was soundly asleep when you called.”  
  
“Asleep my ass I be we just interrupted your special-“  
  
“ _Jesse,_ in the car. _Now._ ”  
  
Hanzo smirked as McCree was scolded, the cowboy taking revenge in the form of dumping a towel on Hanzo’s head and rubbing viciously. Hanzo fought back but held no real strength behind his pushes, laughing with the other man who dragged him into Mr. Morrison’s car. He drifted off quickly after that, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned against the heat beside him, comforted by the smell of salt and sand and a hint of smoke and spice which could only be the familiar scent of McCree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theyre so close to actual romance i swear loljdlj  
> maybe one day hanzo will get enough chill to kiss the cowboy


End file.
